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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260968">Nefarious Shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimifreed/pseuds/Mimifreed'>Mimifreed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Dark Hermione Granger, Domestic Violence, F/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Post-War, Substance Abuse, Werewolf Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:42:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimifreed/pseuds/Mimifreed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(DRAMIONE- post-war)(HIATUS) Hermione Granger has problems. Demoted, drunk, and discouraged. Now, Hermione is a witch with a fourth problem. A wolf problem. A problem that comes in the form of Draco Malfoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>190</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Shakes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't usually post pre-work notes, but I thought I should here. This is a darker side of Hermione &amp; Co. Post-War. I got tired of reading post-war fics where the gang ends up coming out relatively normal. Let's be honest, there's a good chance these people would be needing some major therapy after experiencing what they've gone through. As such, this work will feature topics from substance abuse, domestic abuse, dub-con, graphic violence, self harm/destruction and a slew of other things. Read at your own risk. Updates will be on Mondays!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>One.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Shakes.</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The air in the small office was stale.</p>
<p>The lack of windows, offered a guarantee that the air remained static and musty as it hung heavy around her head. She took in a deep breath, wrinkling her nose in disgust as the smell of the strong coffee in her mug on her desk turned her stomach.</p>
<p>Hermione hated black coffee.</p>
<p>The bitter taste a constant reminder of her even more acrimonious existence in the confines of this Godric forsaken office. She blew out the sigh building in her chest as she lifted the mug to her lips and took an unwanted sip of the beverage. Her lips pulled back in a grimace as the rim of the mug she had been gifted from Harry for her birthday, left her lip and she heard the soft <em>clunk</em> of the ceramic to her walnut desk.</p>
<p>It had been six months since she was taken out of Auror field duty and placed in this office. Six months of her brain rotting behind her eyes as she stared over failed legislatures and half-written bills that had yet to be passed. Six months since Harry was forced to demote her after injuring and illegally obliviating a muggle tourist in Australia.</p>
<p>Thinking of that day, of that entire week of her life gave her a splitting headache. When had she become <em>so fucking stupid</em>? What had lead her to this? What had gone wrong in her life, that she was reduced to begging her best friend to cover up her mistakes as she threw up into the toilet in the bathroom of their flat?</p>
<p>Her hands trembled slightly as she reached down to her desk drawer, withdrawing her wand and quietly muttering <em>Alohamora</em> to the locked drawer. She extended her hand to the back of the wood, feeling for the false bottom and pulling up on the small looped chain. She pulled out the shrunken bottle of Firewhiskey, returned it to its normal size, and poured a bit of it into her mug before shrinking it back down and chucking it into the drawer again.</p>
<p>This is what her life had come to. While her best friend leads Dark Wizard raids and her ex-boyfriend runs one of the most successful Quidditch Gear shops in Britain, she sits behind a desk, drinking Firewhiskey in her coffee at ten in the morning to chase away the shakes that came from her inability to go longer than four hours without a drink and files paperwork for a department she couldn’t give a shit about.</p>
<p>A soft knock at her door pulled her from her reverie of self-loathing.</p>
<p>“Mione?” The door creaked open as Harry’s voice filled the air, cutting through the soft buzzing coming from the lanterns.</p>
<p>Harry stepped through the threshold; a brown paper bag clutched in his fist. He closed the door softly behind him, crossed the length of the small space and set the bag on the desk.</p>
<p>“A breakfast sandwich from that muggle place you like.” He said, his voice soft-toned.</p>
<p>She arched an eyebrow at him and opened the bag. “Did you-</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He offered a kind smile. “Yeah. No avocado, extra tomato. I know.” He said.</p>
<p>Harry. Sweet, knowing Harry. She wondered how much more of a mess her life would be without him. How terrible her break up with Ron would have gone if he hadn’t defended her. How she would probably be homeless and jobless if it weren’t for him.</p>
<p>She eyes his tattooed knuckles as they tapped against the walnut desk.</p>
<p>She hadn’t been the only one who changed from whatever fucked up golden image the public had painted her in.</p>
<p>Harry looked nothing like the bright-eyed, messy haired boy she grew up with. Now, he was almost unrecognizable to that image. His face bore a few added scars, one across his right cheek bone and one running the length of his jaw—covered by the short-cropped beard he kept. His hair, still a mop of jet black locks, was long and unruly. Often pulled back on the crown of his head in a rushed bun. He had discovered shortly after the war an affinity for “tattoo therapy” as he called it, and was covered in the muggle ink. His hands, arms, most of his torso, and a few intricately designed pieces on his legs.</p>
<p>He claimed the pain helped him cope, reminded him he was human.</p>
<p>“You got new work on your knuckles?” She asked, swallowing a large bite of the egg and bacon bagel sandwich Harry had brought her.</p>
<p>He stretched his hand out and looked down at it. “Yeah. You saw it last night…”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>He knew she didn’t remember. He knew she had been inebriated when she stumbled into their flat at two this morning. That’s why he had brought her breakfast, an attempt to help alleviate the inevitable hangover he knew she would have.</p>
<p>The same way he did almost every day.</p>
<p>She took a sip of the Firewhiskey spiked coffee and continued to bite into her sandwich. He leaned back in his chair and used both his hands to pull at his bun, tightening the elastic that held it in place.</p>
<p>“Ginny and I were going to make dinner at the flat tonight, will you be home?” He asked.</p>
<p>She swallowed, choking slightly on the partially chewed bite and took another sip of the coffee. “I’m not sure. Bringham gave me this stack of new registers to go through. Some of them are months old and have yet to have their house calls done.”</p>
<p>“And you’re doing house calls?” He asked, eyeing her apprehensively.</p>
<p>“Apparently.” She said. “They can’t get anyone else to do them and there isn’t really any magic involved. I go to the house, drop off the literature and leave.”</p>
<p>“What’s the literature?” He asked, shifting in his seat and pulling his leg up so that his ankle was resting on his thigh.</p>
<p>She snorted, setting down the sandwich and digging through a stack of papers, yanking out a pamphlet and handing it to him. “This rubbish.” She said.</p>
<p>He looked down at the royal blue and silver printed paper and chuckled. “’What your Ministry can do for you. A guide to easing the transition of beast to citizen through the use of Ministry official guidelines…’ They actually expect people to respond to this condescending bullshit?” He asked.</p>
<p>Hermione shrugged, swallowing the last bite of her sandwich and patting her mouth with a napkin. “Bringham seems to think that by forcing the poor bastards into some sort of ‘ministry mold’ they’ll abide by the laws and stop trying to overthrow the outdated views that keep being printed about them. Apparently there’s a group of wood sprites in South Minister that are protesting registration. Telling the Ministry it’s unlawful.”</p>
<p>“Well, it is, isn’t it?” Harry said.</p>
<p>“Oh, absolutely. Could you imagine having to come to the Ministry every year to sign your name on a paper saying that you aren’t quite human? And then to add insult to injury the Ministry charges you a hundred galleons and plasters your picture in a pamphlet of registered beasts and beings… Oh, and they aren’t allowed to own property, or vote on by-laws, or have a say in anything that has to do with them! It’s fucking <em>archaic</em>.” She ranted, tossing the pamphlet aside and gulping down the rest of her coffee.</p>
<p>“You can do something about that though, can’t you?”</p>
<p>“Not really.” Hermione admitted. “I <em>might</em> be able to get some laws passed to help a few beings. But then, how do you choose? How do you choose who’s lives are worth it?”</p>
<p>Harry shrugged. “Flip a coin?”</p>
<p>“Flip a coin.” She repeated, staring at him deadpan. “Flip a bloody coin?”</p>
<p>He chuckled. “I guess you have to decide who has their shit together more than the rest. Start with werewolves and work you way up the list from there? At least werewolves are mostly human, ‘cept for once a month.”</p>
<p>“It’s not like they’re on their menstrual, Harry.” She said, her tone flat. “It’s more than just the transformation for Werewolves. Remember Lupin? He only had access to Wolfsbane because Snape made it for him out of his own person stock of ingredients. For the everyday Werewolf, it’s expensive as hell. Not to mention the Ministry has monopolized the ingredients, so they can keep raising the prices and it’s not covered as a medical need because Lycanthropy isn’t considered an infection. These poor wizards can’t work, can’t own a home, and can’t pay for the potion they need to even attempt the first two.”</p>
<p>“That’s why I put you here, Hermione.” Harry said. “I knew you would give a shit enough to <em>do something</em> about it.”</p>
<p>She sighed. “Yes well, as much as I would love to do something about it, I have to clean up the rest of the mess the twat before me left. These home visits I need to do are leftover from a year ago. The lazy bastard didn’t do anything for this office, I swear.”</p>
<p>Harry nodded slightly, his leg bouncing nervously.</p>
<p>Hermione drew in a calming breath and eyed him. It was obvious he had something else he wanted to talk about. She knew he rarely cared about magical beings and he kept running his hand over the thick tuft of chin hair, an instant tell that he was trying to find the words to say something that made him uncomfortable.</p>
<p>“All right, Potter.” She said. “Spit it out. Why are you here?”</p>
<p>“What d’you mean?” He said. “I brought you breakfast and-</p>
<p>“And your combing through that beard like it’s your job. You bring me breakfast almost every day and you never stay this long. Out with it. I’ve just told you I have a mountain of work to start on today.”</p>
<p>He rolled his head on his shoulders and sighed. “Right. Okay. Ron came by the flat last night.”</p>
<p>“Ah, there it is.” She said, instantly feeling aggravated. “What’d he say this time?”</p>
<p>“Just that he ran into you at the Pub a few nights ago. He was worried, ‘Mione. <em>I’m</em> worried.”</p>
<p>“Worried.” She snorted. “Ronald hasn’t worried about anything except himself, for years Harry.”</p>
<p>“He said you apparated just outside the pub. Hermione, you can’t keep risking-</p>
<p>“I’m not risking anything.” She argued. “I remember seeing him there. He walked in with that new tart he’s seeing. I had a few drinks with them, and I left. When I apparated, there was no one around but me and I made sure of it.”</p>
<p>“Hannah is hardly a tart and you cast a babbling charm on him in a <em>muggle</em> pub. I can’t keep risking my job to cover up your lack of care when it comes to performing magic in front of muggles. You’re going to get caught. If Unspeakables show up at our doorstep there isn’t going to be anything I can do!”</p>
<p>“My lack of care?” She laughed. “That’s rich, Harry. Really. You think I’m the only fucking witch in Britain who uses their magic in pubs? There are wizards in London town that are making money doing magic as bloody street magicians! If the Unspeakables come for me, they had better go knocking down every door of every witch or wizard that has ever been drunk in a muggle pub!”</p>
<p>“But that’s the problem, innit?” Harry pressed. “You’re getting drunk in pubs. And not just occasionally anymore, Hermione! I’ve held back your hair every night the last six nights while you vomit into the loo! It’s been months! You’ve got-</p>
<p>“I swear to Godric, Harry James Potter, if you tell me I have a problem one more time, I will hex your bullocks off your body.” She spat.</p>
<p>He clenched his jaw, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a slender, tattooed finger. “I’m not saying you have a problem, ‘Mione. I’m just saying maybe you should cut back a bit. You know? Reevaluate some things.”</p>
<p>She could feel her temper rising and she knew that if she began to speak on the subject again, she would say something regrettable. She had been doing a lot of that lately. She expected that somewhere, deep down, she should be grateful that Harry cared enough to fuss and worry over her. She knew he was trying to make sure she was alright, always bringing her breakfast, making sure she exercised… He even brought her new books once a week in an attempt to keep her mind busy with something other than the past. Something other than the memories that haunted her nightmares.</p>
<p>“I’ll try.” She said, making the empty promise in hopes that he would drop the subject.</p>
<p>“That’s all I’m asking.” He said.</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to say something else when another knock on the door interrupted him.</p>
<p>“Come in.” Hermione called.</p>
<p>“Hi, Ms. Granger.” Anna, the department secretary was standing in the doorway. “Auror Potter, I just received an urgent notice for you to return to your department. It came from Minister Shacklebolt.”</p>
<p>“Shit.” Harry said, jumping up from his seat. “What time is it?”</p>
<p>“half ten, sir.” Anna said.</p>
<p>“Fuck, I’m late.” Harry said. “Send him a message back for me, if you will Annie!”</p>
<p>“Anna.” She replied. “And yes, sir. Of course, I will.”</p>
<p>“Anna, yes, obviously. Sorry.” He said. “Let him know I’ll be there in a few minutes.”</p>
<p>She nodded and closed the door.</p>
<p>Hermione sighed. “Meeting with Kingsley?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. We’re supposed to go over the new schedule for the trainees. I totally forgot about it.”</p>
<p>Hermione stood, rounding her desk. She stepped in front of Harry and reached out to straighten his tie. She adjusted the knot so that it sat in the center of the large lily he had tattooed on the front of his throat. “There you are.” She said. “Now, I’ll see you tonight. I’ll try to be quick with these home calls. What are you and Ginny making?”</p>
<p>He laughed. “You mean what am I making. You know Ginny can’t cook to save her life. I’m not sure yet, I’ll stop at the market on the way home. Any requests?”</p>
<p>She folded her arms over her chest and tapped her chin in thought. “Oh! Make that chicken that I like. The kind with the tomatoes and that balsamic reduction you make.”</p>
<p>“Caprese chicken. Got it. Salad?”</p>
<p>“Always.” She agreed. “Angel hair pasta. Not bucatini. I don’t like that one.”</p>
<p>“They’re noodles, Hermione, they all taste the same.”</p>
<p>“They do not.” She laughed, smacking his chest. “Angel hair. Now, get out of my office before Kingsley sends for you again and you get in trouble.”</p>
<p>“All right, I’m going. I love you, you silly witch. I’ll see you tonight.”</p>
<p>“Love you.” She called after him, smiling back at him as he grinned and stepped through the door. She heard the soft <em>crack</em> as he apparated back to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.</p>
<p>She sighed and stretched her arms above her head, letting a quiet groan escape her throat she felt her spine pop in a few places. She sat back at her desk and began digging through the mountain of papers that were stacked. If she could at <em>least</em> get them organized a bit and maybe make a few home visits today, she could call it a successful day and clock out at a decent time.</p>
<hr/>
<p>She looked up at the clock on wall and sighed. Her head was pounding again and she could feel the ache in her muscles returning. She turned her head on her neck, forcing her chin to the side to allow a small <em>crack</em> to sound as she adjusted her shoulders and looked back down at her desk.</p>
<p>She was trembling again, barely able to hold her quill as her hands shook with the ache for the Firewhiskey she kept hidden in her desk. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe she needed to take some time to reevaluate her life, see what changes she should make. Maybe she should just go buy that dusty old book shop in Diagon Alley and sell book to teenagers who were getting ready to go to Hogwarts. Unassuming and bright-eyed, ready to learn and practice new magic in this new Voldemort-free world they lived in.</p>
<p>Maybe if she did, she could let go of things. Maybe if she just <em>tried</em> like Harry had been begging her to do for months, she could move on. She could move past the war, she could move past the months after it. She could move past her toxic and turbulent relationship with Ron, past the muggles she injured in Australia.</p>
<p>She reached into her desk, pulling out the bottle of Firewhiskey and dumped some into her mug. It didn’t matter that there was only a few sips of tea left in the bottom, she would just drink it straight. She capped the bottle and tossed it back into the drawer, slamming it shut and knocked back the double shot she poured in two gulps.</p>
<p>The stacks of papers were organized now by type of registered creature and date of registration. She began reading through the files, making marks on the beings that were out of her department of care. She couldn’t help beings like house elves, merpeople, or centaurs from her position. Although they were registered, they were hardly considered citizens. As much as it pained her, the realization in the last six months had brought that unless the being was mostly human, the Ministry didn’t care what happened to them.</p>
<p>Fae were off the table. The only group of registered Fae in Britain were protected by ancient magic and generally unwelcoming to any other type of magical intrusion. They tended to live away from the Wizarding community and didn’t care to consort around muggles. Although they didn’t have many rights in the eyes of the ministry, they had their own treaties in place to ensure their people were taken care of.</p>
<p>Metamorphmagi and Animagi weren’t nearly as interesting a job to handle. They all had normal places in society, were able to own property, hold jobs and otherwise be successful. She didn’t see the point in dabbling there. She could just owl them their yearly registration forms and skip the home visits, seeing as they lived mostly normal lives. She snorted to herself, picturing Headmistress McGonagall’s face if Hermione were to show up at Hogwarts demanding to see her quarters for registration.</p>
<p>That left her with Vampires and Werewolves. Both stacks were relatively thin. She assumed most of the Vampires had migrated out of Britain during the war, not wanting to associate themselves with either the Order or Death Eaters. There were only a small clan of registered Vampires settled in the North near the Forest of Bowland and she didn’t fancy a trip there this close to sunset. She could put that off for another day.</p>
<p>She grabbed the stack of newly registered Werewolves and decided she could make a few calls to them today before heading back to the flat. She was comfortable with Werewolves, after spending so much time around Remus while in the Order, and she knew that they mostly lived quiet lives. She could work with some of the younger ones, the newly turned Werewolves. She may be able to form a relationship with them and work on getting some positive change to their lives.</p>
<p>The stack of first year registers was small. Only six new Werewolves in the last year that needed to register. She supposed that had a lot to do with Harry finally locating and apprehending Greyback and his pack of ravenous wolves. She shuddered at the thought, remembering her encounters with the monstrous werewolf who took sick joy in turning and eating children. She had been happy to be involved in taking him down.</p>
<p>She carded through the pages, skimming them as she marked the names in her ledger and read through the dates of infection, cause, whether or not the infector was known, and a slew of other details. When she got to the last page, she choked on her breath.</p>
<p>There, written in large bold letters, a name she hadn’t thought about in years.</p>
<p>
  <em>Malfoy, D.L.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Malfoy Estate</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wiltshire</em>
</p>
<p>“No. Fucking. Way.” She said aloud, staring at the name.</p>
<p>There had to be a mistake. A misprint. Her eyes roamed the sheet and she blew out a puff of air in frustration. There was next to no information on it. The others had been <em>detailed</em> down to where they were bitten on their body, the time of day the bite occurred and the dimensions of the bite.</p>
<p>This page was nearly empty.</p>
<p>No details, other than the name and address of Malfoy Manor. There was also a countercharm provided to get her past the wards and a request to “please owl twenty-four hours ahead of arrival”. That was it.</p>
<p>Immediately, Hermione grabbed her quill and a sheet of parchment and began to draft the notice of arrival.</p>
<p>“<em>To Whom it May Concern,</em></p>
<p>
  <em>I will be conducting a home visit as part of your first year registration as a human infected with Lycanthropy. Please expect the visit to last one hour. During the registration process, you will be asked a series of questions, it is imperative that the answers are honest and will remain confidential to your file. The fee for registration is one hundred galleons, please have the fee in hand at the time of registration. You will receive licensing once your interview has been reviewed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I will arrive at 4 p.m. on Friday, April 12. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you for your cooperation.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Regards,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>H.J. Granger”</em>
</p>
<p>She stuffed the parchment into an envelope and sealed it with the Ministry of Magic official seal. She took another look at the clock. It was half five and she hadn’t made any home visits today, but her mind was reeling. She wanted to get to the flat and talk to Harry. The home visits had been put off this long, one more day wouldn’t hurt to start them. She grabbed her blazer off the back of her chair, slipping her arms into the sleeves and tucked her wand into the holster inside the left sleeve. She walked out of the office, stopping at Anna’s desk to hand her the envelope.</p>
<p>“Could you make sure this goes out tonight? It’s important. It needs to get to the address as soon as possible, please.” She said.</p>
<p>Anna smiled. “Yes, of course Ms. Granger.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Anna.” She began to walk away and then doubled back. “Actually, Anna, could you call me Hermione? Ms. Granger makes me feel old. I’m not much older than you are.”</p>
<p>Anna chuckled. “Sure.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” She said, smiling back and heading to the Atrium to access the Floo Network.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione murmured the unlocking spell Harry had in place to get past the wards to their flat. She pushed open the door, and took a deep breath, smiling at the smell of her favorite dish being made.</p>
<p>Harry was a wonderful cook. She knew that his Aunt and Uncle had forced him to do much of the cooking growing up, which was why he preferred to cook the muggle way. Hermione herself had never been very good at it, she could make a meal if she had to, but she preferred to not have to.</p>
<p>Harry, on the other hand, loved to cook. It had become quite the hobby for him over the years. He was constantly trying out new recipes he would find in old books or muggle magazines. Constantly coming up with the most wild concoctions, things she would have never thought would taste good together, that were amazing.</p>
<p>“You’re home early!” Harry called from the kitchen, a glass of red wine in his hand as he stirred whatever was in the pan with a spatula.</p>
<p>“I didn’t go on any home calls today.” She answered, slipping out of her blazer and kicking her shoes off on the mat by the door.</p>
<p>“Oh? Well that’s just as well. Ginny is in the bedroom. She had practice today so she’s taking a nap before we eat.”</p>
<p>“I still can’t believe they make them practice such long hours.” Hermione said, crossing the sitting room and entering the kitchen. She gave Harry’s shoulder a slight squeeze as she looked down at the stove top. “It smells lovely.”</p>
<p>“It’ll be done soon.” He said, crossing the space and grabbing the bottle of wine. He poured a bit into a glass and handed it to her.</p>
<p>“Red? With chicken?”</p>
<p>“It compliments the balsamic, don’t question me!” He laughed.</p>
<p>She chuckled and took a sip, following him into the sitting room and setting her glass down. “Finish dinner, will you? I’m famished. I’ll go wake Ginny and change.”</p>
<p>“So demanding for someone who never cooks.” He grumbled.</p>
<p>She shrugged. “You ate my cooking for months. It’s a repayment of favor.”</p>
<p>“We’ve lived together for three years now, Hermione. You can’t keep using that excuse.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes, throwing him a rude hand gesture as she walked down the hall to her room. She laughed as she heard him laughing at her response. She changed out of her slacks and blouse and donned a pair of cotton joggers and a fitted blue tee shirt. She pulled her hair into a messy bun high on top her head and padded down the hall, gently knocking on Harry’s bedroom door.</p>
<p>“Gin?” She said, pushing the door open. “Ginny? Harry’s almost done making dinner.”</p>
<p>She heard the red-head stir and watched as she sat up from the mass of pillows and blankets and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “Hi ‘Mione.” She said, smiling brightly.</p>
<p>“Hi.” Hermione returned the smile. “Long day?”</p>
<p>“Practice was rough.” She explained, peeling back the blankets and pushing herself from the bed. “We have a new keeper. She’s rubbish, keeps missing basic shots so Captain is making the rest of us pick up the slack.”</p>
<p>“Typical. Breaking your back to carry the rest of the team.” Hermione chuckled. “Hopefully it’ll pay off.”</p>
<p>“It will.” Ginny said.</p>
<p>They walked together to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. Harry had set Hermione’s wine glass at her preferred spot and poured a new one for Ginny. He waved his wand as he tossed the salad greens in a bowl, and the plates and silverware soared through the kitchen, clattering loudly against the table top.</p>
<p>Once the food was on the table, they began piling their plates and tucking in. Chatting idly about current news and sipping on their wine. Finally, once they had finished eating and decided to open another bottle of wine, Hermione decided to share her findings in the registration papers with them.</p>
<p>“You’ll never guess who I’m going to see on Friday to update their registry…” She began, looking between Harry and Ginny.</p>
<p>“Who?” Ginny asked.</p>
<p>“Draco. Malfoy.” Hermione said, her eyebrows rising high into her hairline as she took a sip of her wine and stared at them over the rim of the glass.</p>
<p>Harry nearly choked on his sip of wine, sputtering as he smacked his palm against his chest. “M-Malfoy?!”</p>
<p>Hermione pursed her lips, nodding. “Malfoy.”</p>
<p>“Registry? As in, magical being registry?” Ginny asked.</p>
<p>She continued nodding. “He’s marked as a Werewolf.”</p>
<p>“A Werewolf.” Harry repeated. “Malfoy? Draco Malfoy? Tall, thin, pointy faced git. Blonde and paler than my arse in winter, Draco Malfoy?”</p>
<p>Ginny and Hermione both laughed. “Yes!” Hermione said. “I couldn’t believe it, either!”</p>
<p>“Did the document say who bit him? Or when?” Ginny asked.</p>
<p>Hermione shook her head. “Nope.” She said, the ‘p’ making a small popping sound. “His was the <em>only</em> one that was almost blank. The only thing it said was his address and to owl with a twenty-four-hour notice before arriving.”</p>
<p>“That’s… That’s odd.” Harry said. “You know, he hasn’t been seen much, since the war. After their trials, they all pretty much stayed out of public eye. I had heard Narcissa passed away a couple years ago, but that’s the only thing I’ve heard of them since. Even Lucius has managed to stay quiet.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Hermione said. “That’s why it’s so peculiar! He hasn’t been seen in ages, and all of the sudden he’s cropping up as a Werewolf? How did he manage to get bit from inside The Manor?”</p>
<p>Harry ran a hand through his hair, shaking back the shoulder length locks. “No idea. You’ll find out though, won’t you? During your interview…”</p>
<p>She nodded. “I should, yes. That’s to say, as long as he answers honestly.”</p>
<p>“Can’t imagine a Malfoy answering anything honestly.” Ginny said.</p>
<p>“His mum wasn’t all bad. I was sorry to hear she died. Although, it was odd, they didn’t have a public service for her or anything. I only heard about it because Kingsley had to sign the Death Certificate.”</p>
<p>They continued to talk about the possibilities of Draco Malfoy’s Lycanthropy and as the night wore on, they made their way into the sitting room. After a few hours, Ginny and Harry retired to bed and Hermione followed suit. As she laid awake, staring up at the ceiling, she wondered what it would be like to be inside The Manor again. The last time she had been there hadn’t exactly proved to be a great experience. The scar on her arm itched as she thought about it.</p>
<p>Mudblood. Marked deep into her flesh to forever remind her that she was less than. Now, she would return to the very place it happened and stare the person who tormented her for years in the eyes as she explained to him that he would be losing all rights of ownership to everything he was rightful heir to.</p>
<p>She felt guilty as a sick twist of glee knotted her stomach. She truly wanted to help werewolves, but maybe, just this once, she would be okay with the disgusting nature of the laws revolving around them. For years, she had been plagued by nightmares and flashbacks of the things that had happened to her in that house. She still could remember the searing pain in her body as Bellatrix Lestrange tore through her with the <em>Cruciatus</em> curse over and over. She still had the small scar on her throat, where a dagger had once been. The slur carved into her arm.</p>
<p>Maybe just this once, Hermione could put her conscience aside and be glad that someone who deserved to suffer was suffering.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sleep.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Two.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Sleep.</strong>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione took a long sip from the crystal tumbler of amber liquid as she leafed through the hundreds of documents spread out on the table. They dated back as far as May 2<sup>nd</sup>, 1998; the Battle of Hogwarts. She had borrowed Harry’s clearance to get the boxes of Ministry documents to fuel her research.</p>
<p>Her mind was reeling. The thought of Draco Malfoy being a <em>Werewolf</em> of all things, kept her up into the wee morning hours with curiosity and the burn of unanswered questions.</p>
<p>She was engrossed in a particularly long article about the hunt of Fenrir Greyback dated back to January of last year when the lights popped on in the sconces above the table and she whipped her head around.</p>
<p>Harry stood in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep and his glasses askew on his face. He pushed a hand through his hair, shoving it back off his shoulders and out of his eyes and he leaned against the wooden doorframe. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.</p>
<p>“You been to bed yet?” He asked, adopting that annoying tone he took when trying to figure out if she had too much to drink and needed caring for.</p>
<p>“No.” She said, knocking back the rest of the whiskey in her glass before pulling the stopper off the bottle and refilling it. “You want a bit of-</p>
<p>Harry held up a hand, palm facing her to decline. “I’m all right.” He said. He crossed the space between them and sat across the table from her. His white tee shirt clung to his frame and he set his elbows on the table, his chin in his palm. “What are you doing up?”</p>
<p>“Couldn’t sleep.” She said. “So, I started looking further into Malfoy’s files.”</p>
<p>He sat back, crossing his ink-covered arms over his chest and arching a brow at her. “And?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.” She sighed, taking another sip. “Nothing! I can’t find anything on him. No sightings, no confirmed travel, no galas or balls or events. Lucius cropped up at quite a few after the trials; and since about the time of Narcissa’s death, he’s been seen traveling to other countries for long periods of time. But nothing on Draco.”</p>
<p>“What about a recent muggle license? Maybe he took to living that way. I know a few rehabilitated Death Eaters actually ended up living in muggle London… Driving and working muggle jobs…”</p>
<p>She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to let you say that again out loud to me and I want you to pretend as if it isn’t the dumbest thing you’ve ever said about a Malfoy.”</p>
<p>He chuckled and stood from his spot, crossing over to the sink and pulling the kettle from the stove top. He filled it with water and placed it on the burner. “Want a cuppa?”</p>
<p>She shook her head, motioning to her glass. “I’m all right. What about you, then? Couldn’t sleep?”</p>
<p>He sighed, shaking his head. “Nightmares again.”</p>
<p>“You’ve been having them an awful lot lately, Harry.” She said, concern peppering her tone. “Have you gone back to that Mind Healer?”</p>
<p>“No.” He said. “No, I haven’t. I’m not sure that I will.”</p>
<p>“And why’s that?” She asked, abandoning her scrawled notes and sitting back in the chair.</p>
<p>“It isn’t worth it.” He said, removing the kettle from the heat as it whined loudly. He poured it into his mug, adding his tea before taking his chair again. “To keep reliving everything over and over in the name of healing. It doesn’t feel like healing. It feels like fucking torture.”</p>
<p>She sighed, wrapping her fingers around the glass and running the pads of her thumbs over the rim. “Have you talked to Ginny about it?”</p>
<p>He returned her sigh. “No. She’s got enough on her plate right now with the Harpies. That new captain is running her into the ground.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, she mentioned it the other day.” Hermione agreed.</p>
<p>“How is it that we’re both so fucked up and Ron turned out fine?” Harry grumbled, his eye catching one of the more recent articles boasting R.B.W Quidditch Supplies and Hobby Shop’s success.</p>
<p>“Ron hardly turned out fine, Harry.” She replied, the sad tone not lost on him.</p>
<p>Hermione and Ron had dated through the years after the war. For five years, they lived together. Their relationship quickly growing more and more toxic as Hermione began drinking and Ron became violent. It started small. He would get angry at her and chuck a plate across the kitchen or slam a door so hard the hinges would give. There was always a reason. He was stressed, she would say. He was a first-string keeper for the Chudley Cannons and it was play off season. He was running a rapidly growing business with little help. There was pressure from Hogwarts for him to come on full time instead of just working as a part-time flying instructor here and there and filling in as DADA instructor when needed.</p>
<p>He was stressed. He was <em>always</em> stressed. She would reason with him; she would listen to him scream and slam things around their home. And then, she would drink.</p>
<p>Her nerves had felt on edge since the war, but even more so once she and Harry had begun to round up rogue Death Eaters and sympathizers that disappeared after the battle. Hunting Dark wizards was no easy feat, and they had realized quickly they were in over their heads with little actual Auror training. The job had basically been handed to them, along with anyone else the Ministry deemed “a war hero” and they had been tossed into the line of fire again.</p>
<p>Hermione wasn’t sure exactly what had led her to start drinking. It seemed like it had always been a vice for her, even stealing long sips of Bill’s Firewhiskey from Shell Cottage during the war when she was only seventeen. At first, it had been an escape. Something to calm the nerves that rattled her and something to loosen the persistent tightness in her chest.</p>
<p>Ron hated when she drank.</p>
<p>He would yell and swear at her. He would slam the doors and lock her out of their flat. He accused her of doing things she never did, telling her she didn’t remember because she had been drinking. And then it happened, the explosive anger that he always toed, never quite falling over the precipice of rage he held within… It broke, and washed over her like the murky water of a stagnant dam.</p>
<p>First it was a slap across the cheek. He had been angry that she yelled at him for shattering yet <em>another</em> set of crystal tumblers she had bought to replace the last ones. She had been drinking and called him names out of anger and he had turned on her, the back of his hand instantly bruising her jaw.</p>
<p>And then, he felt terrible. He always felt terrible. He spent days making it up to her, replacing everything he had smashed that night, taking her out for expensive dinners and sending her flowers to the MLE department. He had even bought her a beautiful silver chain necklace.</p>
<p>She had a drawer full of jewelry now that he had bought for her after an explosion.</p>
<p>Harry’s eyes dropped in guilt and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”</p>
<p>“What was it this time?” She asked, going back to their discussion of his nightmares. “Do you remember?”</p>
<p>He sighed, drumming his inky fingers against the wood of the table. “Lupin.” He said. “His body laying on the ground in the Great Hall. Voldemort grabbing at my face. That underaged muggleborn slave ring we broke up in Italy a few years ago… Just a mix of things.”</p>
<p>Harry’s scar had not burned in years, but that did not mean he was not still haunted. Voldemort cropped up in his nightmares more often than not, plaguing him with inability to get a peaceful night’s rest without relying on Dreamless Sleep potions.</p>
<p>Years of self-flagellation over the deaths of innocent people in the name of Harry Potter had taken its toll on him. His once bright emerald eyes were dulled now with the loss of so many loved ones, his crooked, toothy grin forced, more often than not.</p>
<p>Hermione reached a hand over to him, covering his scarred and tattooed right hand with her small left. She was sure she was the only person who knew of his torment. Knew of the weight in his chest that he carried with him since they were children, only getting heavier after the war.</p>
<p>“Do you work in the morning?” She asked. “I have Dreamless Sleep in my room if you need it.”</p>
<p>He shook his head. “Kingsley gave me the weekend off. He said I need to learn how to separate myself from my work.” A humorless laugh fell from his lips as he covered the top of her hand with his other, sandwiching it between his. “Ginny is going to try and get Sunday off, so we can go somewhere to spend the day.”</p>
<p>“That would be nice.” Hermione said, softly. “Get away from everything for a day. You need the break, Harry. Kingsley is right about that.”</p>
<p>“It’s hard to justify taking a holiday when there’s so much that needs done.” He grumbled. “At any rate, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure Blaise will call for me by Saturday.”</p>
<p>Blaise Zabini had taken over Hermione’s spot in the ranks of Aurors in the Magical Law Enforcement department. He was essentially, Harry’s right-hand man now. Zabini was brilliant, and Hermione was sure he always had been. He was cunning and determined and <em>so good</em> at thinking like a Death Eater, it was almost scary. She was glad he had taken side with The Order while they were young, otherwise she was sure he would have been a force to be reckoned with as a Dark Wizard.</p>
<p>“Oh, tosh.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Blaise is perfectly capable, Harry. It’s you who can’t loosen the reins on him.”</p>
<p>“Well I’m still getting used to him being there instead of you.” He defended. “He does things <em>so differently</em> than you did.”</p>
<p>“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” She said. “Let him work the weekend, see how he does. You aren’t working on anything groundbreaking right now, otherwise I doubt highly that Kingsley would have given you the weekend off.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He agreed, dropping her hand from his and sipping at his tea. “I reckon you’re right. What time is your meeting at Malfoy Manor tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“Four.” She replied. “I’m not going into the office though. Told Bringham I had some person things to deal with before the meet.”</p>
<p>“Do you?”</p>
<p>She chuckled. “No, of course not. But if I have to spend one more day pushing parchment around my desk, I’m going to need you to commit me to St. Mungo’s for insanity.”</p>
<p>Harry laughed. “Hopefully in the coming months the tosser will retire and you can head up the department and do something besides registration. That man turns my stomach.”</p>
<p>Harry wasn’t wrong on his insults to Mr. Bringham. He was a large, puffy man with a bald head that nearly always had a sheen of sweat across it. His small blue eyes were too close together and his large grey moustache always had bits of his lunch in it. Not only was he revolting to look at, but his personality left much to be desired. He was pushy and rude and couldn’t care less about the Magical beings he was supposed to be protecting. He only ever put effort in to make the most minor of changes, fearing any type of interruption in his pension if he were to upset the wrong people.</p>
<p>Hermione wanted his job.</p>
<p>She had made her peace with not being a part of the MLE now. While she had been <em>beyond</em> angry with Harry for the demotion, after her eight weeks of suspension and accosting him every second she could, she settled on allowing him to place her in the Department of Magical Creatures, Beasts and Beings. She currently worked in the registration department, but she was hopeful that once Mr. Bringham finally took his retirement, she would become department head and could instate some real change for the poor souls.</p>
<p>That was really what she missed about the MLE department. The sense of doing something good, something worthwhile. Filing old half written bills and leafing through incomplete registrations was not what she had in mind.</p>
<p>She wanted to completely reform the department. She wanted to change the way magical humans interacted and accepted magical beings. She had been so close to losing all of her rights for being muggle-born, for being less than. She wanted to see to it that any capable person or being was able to live a fulfilled life, despite their lineage or magical species.</p>
<p>She groaned inwardly, even if that magical being was Draco bloody Malfoy.</p>
<p>“What will you do with your time off?” Hermione asked, changing the subject from her less than fulfilling work life.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure. As I said, Ginny and I might take Sunday together. Perhaps go to Bath or something, I know she’s been dying to go to that new Spa that opened up there. I may play some quidditch with…” He trailed off, chewing on the inside of his cheek to bite back the last of his sentence.</p>
<p>“You can say his name, Harry.” Hermione said, looking up at him through her lashes. “I don’t care if you play Quidditch with him. He’s your friend.”</p>
<p>“Hardly consider him my mate, these days.” Harry admitted. “Not after what he did to you. But I try to stay friendly… For Ginny’s sake, more than anything. I know she’s had a lot on her plate lately but I really wish she would understand that I can’t just let what happened slip through the cracks.”</p>
<p>“She’s pushing you to talk to him again, then?” She asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He said. “She means well, I guess. She doesn’t fully understand everything that happened… That’s to say, I didn’t… I didn’t <em>tell</em> her everything… It wasn’t my place to put your erm… reason for leaving out there.”</p>
<p>Hermione snorted. “I appreciate you keeping it private but it hardly matters when he blames me for his injury. Arshole can beat the piss out of me, but the second I fight back and he gets hurt, it’s all my fault.”</p>
<p>Harry shifted in his chair, taking a nervous sip of his tea and watching her as she sipped her whiskey.</p>
<p>She knew it made him uncomfortable, what had happened between her and Ron. She knew that he had been the one to take him to St. Mungo’s after she cursed him. She knew Harry had <em>tried</em> to get Ron into some sort of anger therapy, to cope with his outbursts and issues. She knew they still talked on a weekly basis. She really didn’t care. She didn’t care that Harry was trying to patch up whatever was left of his friendship with Ron after what he did to her. As long as he stayed away from her, she didn’t care.</p>
<p>It had been her mistake that she sat at that pub and had drinks with him and Hannah Abbot earlier in the week. She knew that had opened a floodgate for Harry, and she felt bad about it.</p>
<p>She knocked back the remainder of the whiskey in her glass and began straightening the stacks of parchment and old Daily Prophet articles. She stood from her chair, throwing her curls over her shoulders and stuck a hand out to Harry.</p>
<p>“Come lay with me.” She said. “Maybe we’ll manage a few hours sleep.”</p>
<p>He left his mug on the table and took her hand, letting her lead him to her bedroom. She closed the door and waited a moment as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, fumbling through the room and pulling Harry into the bed. They sank into the mattress, pulling the blankets over their forms and he handed her his glasses to set on the night stand.</p>
<p>“I’m fairly certain that if Ginny knew we did this, she would leave me.” Harry murmured.</p>
<p>“So, don’t tell her.” Hermione said.</p>
<p>He adjusted himself to lay on his side, laying his head on her chest and his hand sprawled out over the flat of her stomach. She nuzzled into his hair, carding it through her fingers. They had often found themselves sleeping like this. It began way back in sixth year at Hogwarts. When he was heartbroken watching Ginny with Dean Thomas and she was pining after Ron. They had tried to drown their sorrows in fervent snog sessions and heavy petting when they were teenagers. As adults, sex had acted as a release between them throughout the years, but more often than not they just laid together, quiet and calming. They had found that the only comfort they really needed was the feel of being close to someone who understood.</p>
<p>It carried on through their time in the tent. After Ron had abandoned them, they were desperate to stay together at all costs, to make sure they were taken care of. They found that laying together, providing comfort to one another was the best thing they could offer. As the years wore on, they often found themselves snuggled up with one another again. Ron would hit her, and she would stay at Harry’s and he would hold her until she fell asleep. Harry would Floo call in the middle of the night, or page her wand claiming a work emergency. She would come to his flat to hold him, his head to her chest, listening to her heart beat. Trying to chase the nightmares away again, as she had for so long.</p>
<p>She hadn’t found comfort in another person the way she had found with Harry. They understood each other. They understood that they just needed to be held, to be looked after and be told that it was okay to be scared and upset and angry. No one else understood that the way Harry did. But then, no one else had gone through the types of things she had been subjected too like Harry had.</p>
<p>After spending so much time together in that blasted tent during what should have been their seventh year at Hogwarts, they had discovered they both craved their specific brand of comfort. It had proven impossible to lay with Ron like this, it always led to sex with him. Harry, she suspected, didn’t want to embarrass himself by asking Ginny to just <em>hold</em> him. They had been on so many missions together since becoming Aurors, that she had almost become dependent on the weight of her friend’s head on her chest in order to get some decent sleep.</p>
<p>She felt her eyes grow heavy as Harry traced invisible patterns onto her belly with his hand, his breaths slow as they followed pace with her heartbeat. She hoped that one day she would find someone else to hold her like this, so she wouldn’t feel so guilty about it.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Her eyes flickered open and she groaned as the light streaming in from the window temporarily blinded her. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and sat up, untangling herself from Harry’s limbs. She heard him groan and pull the pillow over his head in protest.</p>
<p>“You aren’t going to the office, why are you getting out of bed!” He whined.</p>
<p>“Because I need to use the loo, prat.” She laughed. “Besides it’s almost noon and you owe me lunch.”</p>
<p>“I do?” He asked, sitting up and looking at her, confused. “For what?”</p>
<p>She shrugged, handing him his glasses from the side table. “For the services I provide buy letting you use my chest as a pillow.”</p>
<p>He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, all right. I’ll go shower and get dressed.”</p>
<p>While Harry showered and changed, Hermione dressed herself in a cream skirt and a burgundy light knit sweater. She slipped her feet into a pair of tan ankle boots and combed her hair with her fingers, having given up on attempting to tame the wild curls years ago. She padded out to the kitchen and reached into the cupboard below the sink where they kept their store of various liquors and wines and poured a bit of whiskey into a mug, topping it off with coffee and sighing in relief as her shaky hands began to calm within moments.</p>
<p>“Mione? Will you braid my hair back for me?” Harry called from the bathroom and she chuckled.</p>
<p>He liked his hair to be braided, but was hopeless at doing it himself. She had spent hours trying to teach him and the best he could manage was some sort of lopsided twist on top his head. She entered the bathroom and he was sitting on the edge of the tub, his towel around his waist and his bare torso still damp from the shower.</p>
<p>She didn’t blush anymore, upon seeing her friend nearly nude. She had lived with him the last three years now, and had seen him fully nude more times than she cared to admit. The man truly did not have any modesty when it came to wandering around their flat starkers.</p>
<p>She made quick work of his damp hair, tugging and twisting the locks into a tight braid that sat against his scalp. He whined at the pulling, but she paid him no mind. Afterall, he’s the one who asked for the braid in the first place.</p>
<p>Once he was dressed, they settled on a small café in Diagon Alley. Usually, they avoided eating lunch anywhere public in Wizarding Britain. Ever since the war, they got stopped more often than not and Harry had seemed to collect a following of younger generation students who nearly fainted every time they saw him in public.</p>
<p>He dealt with the fame well, but he always had.</p>
<p>They apparated to Diagon Alley and asked for a table at the back of the café, as far away from other diners as possible.</p>
<p>“So, what type of information will you get from Malfoy today?” Harry asked. “Is there a list or something?”</p>
<p>Hermione took a sip of her wine and shook her head. “Not exactly, no. There are a few points I have to cover in order for the registration to be valid. Date of infection, location of attack, location of bite on the body, how long it took before they transformed-</p>
<p>“How long before they transformed?” He asked, swallowing the bite he had taken from the burger. “Don’t they all transform the next month?”</p>
<p>“No.” Hermione said, spearing the salad greens with her fork. “Not always. It can take months sometimes, depending on the wolf who administered the bite. If it was a powerful werewolf, they can transform the same night they’re bitten if the moon is still visible. If it’s a strong human, they may fight it off for awhile before finally succumbing. There’s a lot of factors involved, Harry! Did you not pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts when we were in Hogwarts?”</p>
<p>A sheepish grin pulled across his face. “You know I didn’t. I was busy.”</p>
<p>“Busy getting us into trouble.” She chuckled. “At any rate, I want to find out as much as I can. Perhaps even persuade him to tell me why he’s been absent from public eye all these years.”</p>
<p>“Well if he’s a werewolf, he wouldn’t have wanted to go around in public, would he? Remus always hated being around groups. Said the smells drove him insane.”</p>
<p>“It’s so interesting, the heightened senses, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Not sure if I’d say interesting.” Harry admitted. “Terrifying, sure.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “Can you just be happy that I’m finally getting involved in something other than organizing parchment please! Your lack of enthusiasm for my work is disheartening!” She scolded him playfully.</p>
<p>“I am happy for you!” He defended, shoving a few chips into his mouth. “I’m so thrilled to listen to you swot it up every night, now!”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.</p>
<p>They finished their lunch and walked through a few shops at Diagon Alley before Hermione realized the time was coming near for her meeting at Malfoy Manor. She checked her bag, making sure she had her ledger with her to record the information and said goodbye to Harry, promising to bring home some of their favorite muggle take away for dinner.</p>
<p>Just before four, she apparated out of Diagon Alley and landed gracefully on her feet before the large wrought iron gates that guarded Malfoy Manor.</p>
<p>She could feel the tingling of magic as she pushed the gate, testing it to see if the spell she had been given to get past the wards was accurate. It was, and she slipped through the small opening and listened to the clanging sound as the gate shut behind her.</p>
<p>She looked down the brick pathway and was astonished by the view. This was <em>not</em> the Malfoy Manor she remembered. The structure of the home was still the same. Large and impressive, with enormous pillars and intricate hedging along the pathway. But the grounds were a mess. No longer were there elegant white peacocks strutting about or large fountains displaying incredible water shows. The grass was tall, she thought it might brush her knees if she were to step into it. The weedy vines had run rampant over the stone statues and fountains, claiming them to the land upon which they were built.</p>
<p>She could hear the clucking of chickens, which sent a terrible pang through her brain of the time she spent at the Burrow over the years, and she wondered why on <em>earth</em> Malfoy of all people would have chickens on his property. As she walked up the path, she side stepped the several spots of brick that had been overrun by the Earth, and she thought maybe, no one lived here anymore. It looked to be completely unkempt, unoccupied.</p>
<p>She righted her skirt as she stood before the large, mahogany door and rapped her fist against it three times.</p>
<p>She heard shuffling inside and the door creaked open. She gave it a small push, and poked her head inside. It was dark, the only light coming from a soft glowing down the left corridor.</p>
<p>“Hello?” She called, stepping in and jumping slightly as the door closed behind her. “Hello? Malfoy? I-it’s Hermione Granger. I’m here to do your registration.”</p>
<p>“In here.”</p>
<p>She followed the sound of the low rasping voice, the glowing light leading her way.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading.<br/>Please remember to review! <br/>xo<br/>Mimi</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please remember to review! That's how I know what you all like and don't like about the chapter! Thank you for reading! xo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Three</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Meeting</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The soft orange glow of the fireplace poured from the cracked door at the end of the corridor. She stopped before reaching the door, taking a deep breath to steel herself, and pushed it fully open, entering the room.</p>
<p>He was sat in a chair behind a large, mahogany desk. The candles floating near it lit up the work space and she could make out the small stacks of parchments. His form was hunched over, scribbling into the parchment and he finally stopped when she cleared her throat, trying to break the tension in the room.</p>
<p>"Malfoy." She greeted. "It won't take long. Is there somewhere you'd like to-</p>
<p>"Here is fine." He interrupted, motioning to the chair in front of the desk. "Sit there."</p>
<p>She stared at him for minute, not liking that he was telling her what to do, but she bit back the urge to tell him to stuff it, and on the edge of the plush arm chair. She watched him for several long moments. He never once looked up from the parchment he was writing on, his blonde head hanging low so she could not see his face.</p>
<p>"We really should get started." She spoke, quietly.</p>
<p>He sighed, setting down the quill and finally, pulling his eyes up from the page, he faced her.</p>
<p>She bit back the urge to gasp upon looking at him.</p>
<p>This Draco Malfoy was no longer the skinny, pointy-faced ponce she knew from Hogwarts. He was broad shouldered and she could make out the outline of lean muscles beneath the button-down shirt he had on. When her eyes found his face, the shock took her breath. His features were still pointed, but far more matured than she was expecting. His jaw was set tight, almost clenched and down the right side of his face ran a large, nasty looking scar. The jagged, twisted strip of flesh ran through the center of his eye.</p>
<p>He angled his body so that his left side was pointed toward her, in the glow of the fireplace and the added light from the few candles by his desk, she could see that his right eye was milky, the iris and pupil covered with the opaque cloud. His left was the silvery blue she remembered from their time at Hogwarts.</p>
<p>"Erm… Right." She said, digging through her back to pull out the ledger and self-inking quill she brought with her. "Let's get this over with then."</p>
<p>He stared at her, unmoving. If she didn't know without a doubt that he was in the room with her, the lack of movement or inflection from him would have convinced her he wasn't there.</p>
<p>"Your file at the Ministry had next to no information, so there's quite a lot I'll need to collect from you that otherwise wouldn't be asked here. The purpose of the visit is to ensure you are staying connected to your human side and to establish the understanding from the Ministry to your needs as a magical being. Do you understand?"</p>
<p>"I understand," He began, his voice raspy and low. She could tell it must have been awhile since he had actually spoken to anyone. "That the Ministry is sending its workers to my estate to ensure <em>compliance</em>, Granger. Not understanding."</p>
<p>She shifted in her seat. She wasn't sure she could remember a time he ever used her name in place of calling her Mudblood. "The only compliance I would like from you is honesty during the interview. After which, you may be as noncompliant to these insane laws as you please."</p>
<p>He arched the scarred eyebrow to her. "Oh? Fighting the good fight, are we?" He flashed his white teeth at her and she noticed the very distinct point to his incisors.</p>
<p>"Something like that." She answered vaguely. "This is your first registration?"</p>
<p>He nodded. "It is."</p>
<p>"And what was the date of infection?"</p>
<p>"August 29th…" He said, trailing off to take a sip from a mug on the desk. Hermione nodded, writing down the date for last August. "1998." He continued, after swallowing.</p>
<p>Her quill paused and she looked up at him, meeting his eyes in confusion. "1998?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"But you're a first-year register." She said slowly, trying to piece it together.</p>
<p>"This is the first year I am allowing the Ministry to have involvement, yes." He said. "But I was bitten August 29th of 1998."</p>
<p>She studied him for a long moment. The scarring tearing down his face, across his hands… She imagined his chest, back and legs were probably covered too. This type of scarring was certainly indicative of several years of Lycanthropy.</p>
<p>"Where on your body were you bitten?" She asked, going back to list of questions she needed answers for.</p>
<p>"Everywhere." He answered with a quiet but painfully bitter tone.</p>
<p>Again, she met his eyes. His milky, blinded right eye stared ahead as curiosity danced behind the silver left eye. "Everywhere." She repeated. "You'll need to be more specific."</p>
<p>He sighed, leaning against the back of his chair. He pulled the collar of his shirt to the left, revealing a large patch of scarred flesh. "This one, is the one I'm assuming infected me. I was bitten on my neck, my back, my shoulders, my thighs… Everywhere."</p>
<p>She marked left side of neck into her notes and dipped her chin in a curt nod. "And in what location were you, when bitten?"</p>
<p>"Here." He said, his gaze concentrated as he watched her.</p>
<p>She was thankful for her years of Auror training. She was sure had she not faced a multitude of situations that required her to keep hold of her emotions, she may have started squirming in her seat under the intensity of him.</p>
<p>"Here? In the Manor?"</p>
<p>"Yes. The cellar."</p>
<p>She marked it in her notes, looking up to him again. "Do you know who turned you?"</p>
<p>His lip pulled up into a snarl, his eyes narrowing and she swore she could feel the heat coming from his body. "Fenrir Greyback."</p>
<p>Her eyes widened. "Greyback? He <em>infected</em> you? I thought he didn't-</p>
<p>"Usually." He agreed, bringing his mug up to his lips. He took a slow sip and set it back to the wood of the desk, his left hand still wrapped around the ceramic as he spoke. "I was made a special exception."</p>
<p>"Why?" She asked. "Why would he infect you? He's not known for his pack mentality. He only ever kills and eats, that's why he goes after children. Why infect you?"</p>
<p>"August 29th, 1998 was the day the Ministry cleared my name." He said. "You're intelligent Granger, I'm confident you can make sense of why."</p>
<p>She crossed her legs at the knee, smoothing the skirt over her thighs before looking back up at him. "He was angry you walked free. So were a lot of people. Why turn you, for it? Why create a pack member if he's just going to do it out of spite?"</p>
<p>"Spite." He huffed what she assumed was supposed to be a laugh. "<em>Control</em>, Granger. I'm quite disappointed with your lack of research here."</p>
<p>She bit back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself and straightened her back against the chair. "Control of what? Your property?"</p>
<p>"Control of <em>me</em>." He said, his grip on the mug tightened so much that the ceramic cracked under the pressure of his fist. He sighed in irritation as the contents of it went flooding onto the desk. The stinging smell of Firewhiskey hit her nose and her tongue darted from her mouth, wetting her lips as he waved his wand over the mess.</p>
<p>She realized her mistake as he looked up at her, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. He stood from his desk for the first time and she stared at him, surveying his movements as he moved quickly across the room. He had gotten even taller since she had seen him last. He now towered in the room; his body broadened from the Lycanthropy pulsing through him. His shirt was stretched tight across his back and shoulders and she could see that his trousers fit tight against muscular thighs.</p>
<p>He had been fit in Hogwarts, every girl her age had thought it. Had he not been such an insufferable, prejudiced, twat, she might have thought so, too. But he was always lean and almost lanky. To see him look much the opposite of that now, intrigued her. She was unaware of the physicality possessing Lycanthropes. Lupin had certainly not followed this path.</p>
<p>She remembered the few encounters she had with Greyback before his capture and she could recall how enormous the man was. His chest broad and puffed out the day she and Harry had apprehended him. His hands had been the side of rubbish bin lids, he had so easily been able to grab her throat in one large hand.</p>
<p>Her hand pressed against the front of her throat, absentmindedly.</p>
<p>"Firewhiskey." It wasn't a question. He handed her the ornate crystal glass and sat back down, taking a sip from his own.</p>
<p>"Thank you." She murmured, pulling a sip from the tumbler and setting it on the edge of his desk. She let out a soft sigh as the burning liquid soothed her throat.</p>
<p>He grunted in return.</p>
<p>"So, you were first infected on August 29th, 1998. In the cellar here at the Manor. Bitten several times on your body but most severely at your neck and you were infected by Fenrir Greyback." She read back her notes out loud.</p>
<p>"Very clinical." He said. "But, yes."</p>
<p>She nodded, bringing the glass back to her lips again. "Why now?" She asked. "If you've lived unregistered for eight years, why begin registering now?"</p>
<p>A very familiar smirk pulled the corner of his lips out. <em>There he is.</em> She thought, staring the familiar Malfoy in the face. "I had read that Greyback was apprehended." He said. "You and Potter, right?"</p>
<p>She nodded. "That's right."</p>
<p>"But then shortly after you moved departments? I wonder, Granger, why you'd leave the limelight of the biggest capture of your career since the Dark Lord to visit Werewolves and assess the quality of unicorn dung?"</p>
<p>She narrowed her eyes and knocked back the last of her Firewhiskey. "Decisions made for my career are mine to make, Malfoy. Why I changed departments has nothing to do with this interview."</p>
<p>"Doesn't it?" He said, his voice a bit stronger now from exercising it with her the last twenty minutes.</p>
<p>She shifted in her seat. He was toying with her, and she didn't like it. Still just as slimy and dodgy as he was in school, apparently. She clenched her jaw and swallowed the lump in her throat. She watched his eyes follow the bobbing in her throat as she did. "How would it?" She said. "I had no knowledge that you had been turned until two days ago. I've been in this department six months."</p>
<p>"You may not have had knowledge of me, pet. But I've had knowledge of you."</p>
<p><em>Pet</em>. <em>Did he just fucking call me 'PET'?!</em> She felt her chest flush with the sudden anger of the name and she cleared her throat. "And why is that?" She asked. "Why have I no knowledge of you? Why has <em>no one</em> had knowledge of you since the trials?"</p>
<p>He leaned back, gulping down the last of his Firewhiskey and setting the glass back to the desk. He crossed his legs at the knees and looked down to his shoulder as he brushed a bit of lint from his shirt. "I prefer my privacy, these days." He said. "I don't like visitors and I don't care to be out in public."</p>
<p>"Your father has been seen quite a bit. Is he still living here?" She asked, now digging for information to roll around with later.</p>
<p>"I don't see how it's any of your concern, being that you're no longer an Auror."</p>
<p>"Humor me." She said.</p>
<p>His eyes locked into hers and although one was unseeing, she felt as if it was gripping at her very soul. "He does not reside within this house any longer." He said, an angry undertone apparent in his words.</p>
<p>"How soon did your first transformation take place, after the bite?" She asked.</p>
<p>Knowing Fenrir Greyback as the savage he was, she was certain the transformation had to have been quick. No human could reside alongside Lycanthropic venom that strong for very long. She had been ready to write down the same date as the day he was bitten and she stared at him, eyebrows raised as she waited for him to answer.</p>
<p>"Why does that matter?" He hissed.</p>
<p>"You are unable to turn another while in human form." She said. "Surely, you knew that already. I need to know precisely how long you've been transforming so that we may rule out any open cases regarding unknown attackers during your lunar cycles."</p>
<p>He held her eyes for several minutes. So long, in fact, she began to feel uncomfortable again. Had the git always been this intense? She doubted it. She couldn't remember a time at Hogwarts that he had felt <em>intense</em>. "My first transformation was September 16th, 1999." He bit out.</p>
<p>"1999?" She asked, certain that the shock of the information was evident in her tone. "Over a year? You didn't transform for <em>over a year</em>? Surely, you're mistaken and-</p>
<p>"I am not <em>mistaken</em>, Granger. I can assure you that I can vividly remember that night and every transformative night since."</p>
<p>She marked the date in her notes and closed the book, sandwiching her quill into it. She thought on it a moment and decided she needed to make her exit. Leave while she's ahead and process the information she had been given. She slipped the notebook back into her bag and stood from the arm chair. "I think this is enough to conclude this interview." She said, adopting a very corporate tone. "I will return once your interview has been reviewed and your registration is submitted."</p>
<p>He stood from his spot behind the desk and walked around the front of it, invading her personal space and towering over her. She pulled her chin up to look into his face. He handed her a slip of parchment, a check with "one hundred galleons" written on it and the magical seal that ensures it to be collected from his Gringotts account, once reaching the proper treasury at the Ministry. "If you want physical galleons, you'll have to come back and get it." He said. "I don't carry that kind of gold on me."</p>
<p>"This will be fine." She said, her thumb running over his signature before putting it in her bag. She gave him one last look before stepping away from him. "I'll see myself out."</p>
<p>Before she stepped away from him, his arboraceous scent overwhelmed her nostrils. She felt her mouth go dry at the heat that seemed to seep from him, rushing over her and enveloping her in its sinister embrace. She could hear the even breaths puffing from his nose and she stumbled backward a bit, feeling her heart rate pick up with fear.</p>
<p>"Granger." He said, his voice a low growl.</p>
<p>She forced her eyes back to his, refusing to show the rush of fear she had experienced. "Yes?"</p>
<p>"You asked why I registered now, after going the last eight years without reporting it." She watched his nostrils flare and she could have <em>sworn</em> he sniffed at the air around her. "You are the reason."</p>
<p>She remained silent, locking her gaze to his and watching his eyes as they roamed his face. She had the understanding now, that while the one was clearly blinded; it could see more than he was letting on. The strange cloudy stare felt as if it were assessing her, sizing her up as he took in her scent.</p>
<p>"What is that supposed to mean?" She finally asked, biting out the words.</p>
<p>Another smirk pulled his features sideways and she got the crushing urge to whip her palm across his face. "I trust you can see yourself out."</p>
<p>He turned his back to her, resuming his seated position behind the desk and looking back down the parchment he had been scribbling on when she arrived. She clenched her jaw. She didn't like being toyed with, being talked to like she were stupid. She marched out of the office and through the corridor. When she pushed open the heavy front door and took a deep breath of the cool spring air, she collected her thoughts.</p>
<p>Malfoy had certainly changed in appearance since she had last seen him, but then again, she supposed she had too. Harry was certainly unrecognizable from his Hogwarts days… Change was inevitable. But Malfoy was <em>different.</em> She thought about her own body, how it had filled out and she was no longer the rod thin, bushy haired girl she had been before. She had had her teeth permanently charmed to get rid of the ghastly bucktoothed overbite she sported in her younger years. Her hair, while still massive and curly, was not frizzy by any means. More defined and purposefully wild than the owls nest it had been before. She was still petite in height, but she was much curvier than she had been at sixteen. She supposed a normal diet and regular Auror training exercises could account for that.</p>
<p>But Malfoy was <em>massive</em> now. He was tall to begin with, but he now stood at <em>least</em> a foot over her. Her head barely at his shoulders when he stood by her. He was by no means as chiseled as Harry, who in the years after Hogwarts found a love of physical fitness, but he was <em>broad</em> and his corded muscles were defined. Sharp, almost.</p>
<p>She chuckled to herself, wondering why he would remain clean shaven. Surely, suffering from lycanthropy would make the upkeep a difficult task. Even Lupin was known to have used shaving charms more than twice a day in attempts to keep his face mostly hairless… She shook her head. <em>What an odd thing to wonder about.</em></p>
<p>She reached the iron gates and pushed them open, listening as they clanged shut behind her and she took a last look of the Manor before turning on her heel and quickly disappirating to the alley behind the flat she shared with Harry. Hopefully, Harry was home so she could discuss the meeting.</p>
<hr/>
<p>When she arrived back to the flat, she found it empty and decided to take a few of the documents she had been researching the night before and settle in at a nearby muggle pub while she waited for Harry to come home. She found she quite liked this place, having come to it several times over the three years she'd lived with Harry.</p>
<p>It was quiet, hardly ever a crowded place. The barkeep was friendly but not intrusive, and he knew which brand of muggle whiskey she preferred to drink. She found a spot at the end of the bar closest to the wall, the stool next to her was empty and she appreciated that she wouldn't be bothered.</p>
<p>"Aye, lass. Welcome back." The man greeted her, pulling a small glass from under the bar and immediately filling it with liquor. "Been a few days."</p>
<p>She nodded, offering him a kind smile. "Busy at work." She said, accepting the glass from him and taking a sip. "Keep them coming?"</p>
<p>"Of course." He said. "Bad nigh' at the office?"</p>
<p>"Not bad." She took another sip. "Peculiar, though."</p>
<p>"Wha' is it you do again? I know yeh tol' me before, but it 'as slip my mind!" He chuckled. "Probably the booze."</p>
<p>She laughed and knocked back the rest of the shot and handed the glass back to him so he could refill it for her. "I work for… the government." She said. "Boring stuff. Paper pusher, really."</p>
<p>"Pretty face like yours sittin behin' a desk all day?!" He laughed. "Tha' ought ter be a crime!"</p>
<p>"Yes, well, being pretty doesn't pay the bills, John." She said. "Besides, I'd be hopelessly bored if it did."</p>
<p>She chatted with John for a few more minutes until another patron walked in and took his attention away from her. She liked him, he was kind and funny and always chased away the strange men who would try to pick her up from time to time.</p>
<p>She began looking over her notes from the interview with Malfoy. Her mind was reeling with the fact that he had even been bitten, let alone by Fenrir Greyback. The fact that he had revealed Greyback turned him to control him was unsettling. Why would he want control of Malfoy? What purpose did that have aside from having the money or assets?</p>
<p>She was scribbling down questions to look further into later when the stool next to her became occupied. She didn't look up right away, but instead, kept her head in her notes and a hand on her glass as she sipped, ignoring the chattering of the person beside her.</p>
<p>"Mione!"</p>
<p>She looked up and saw Harry, eyebrows raised into his hair.</p>
<p>"Harry!" She said, smiling. "When did you get here?"</p>
<p>"I've only been talking to you the last fifteen minutes! Did you not hear a word I said?"</p>
<p>She smiled sheepishly, feeling the heat flood her cheeks. "Sorry. I was looking through my notes. You aren't the only man in the world to sit next to a woman in a pub and start talking to her. I tend to block that out."</p>
<p>"You have random men talking to you in pubs?" He asked, looking irritated.</p>
<p>"Sometimes." She said. "Not here though. John chases them away. Surprised he hasn't come talk to you, yet. How did you know where I was?"</p>
<p>He sighed. "I've picked you up from here more than once over the years, Hermione. It's not hard to figure out where else you would have gone. I saw you had been home, the seat to the loo was closed."</p>
<p>She laughed. "I'm glad that's your indicator."</p>
<p>He shrugged. "I bought a motorcycle today!"</p>
<p>She set down the pen she was writing with and turned her torso to look at him. "You did what, now?"</p>
<p>He beamed at her. "I bought a motorcycle today." He repeated. "We could never get Sirius's old bike fixed and I've always wanted one. So, I bought one."</p>
<p>"And do you have a license?" She asked.</p>
<p>He snorted, taking a sip from the bottled lager in front of him. "You know I don't."</p>
<p>"So, what happens when you get caught?"</p>
<p>He shrugged again. "A <em>confundus</em> should take care of that, shouldn't it?"</p>
<p>She stared at him in disbelief for a moment. "A <em>confundus</em>? Weren't you <em>just</em> telling me a few nights ago to stop using magic in front of muggles?"</p>
<p>"Yes. But I'm <em>head </em>Auror, what are they going to do? Arrest me?" He laughed, his eyes sparkling with alcohol induced happiness and the twinkle of mischief she had come to know so well over the years.</p>
<p>She sighed, shaking her head in annoyance at her best friend's obvious disregard for the laws he swore to uphold. "It's asinine the amount of shit you get away with, Harry Potter." She grumbled, emptying yet another glass of whiskey into her mouth. "Not even licensed for apparition…" She grumbled.</p>
<p>"Yes, well I was a little busy saving the world, if you can recall. I mean, you were there so…" He laughed again, motioning to John to give him another lager.</p>
<p>"I got my license afterward, thank you very much. Merlin, the ego on you! I'm surprised you can even fit a helmet on that messy-haired head of yours." She chuckled.</p>
<p>"It isn't egotistical if it's <em>true,</em> 'Mione. And besides, who said anything about a helmet? I've taken enough bludgers to the skull over the years, I highly doubt a helmet will do much for me."</p>
<p>She stared at him, shaking her head again. "Yes, bludgers to the head are certainly a problem for you. I'm fairly certain one of those blows has knocked some things loose."</p>
<p>He scoffed at her and smiled. "Cheeky!" He teased, sipping from his new bottle. "So, how'd the meeting go with Malfoy? Get anything good out of him?"</p>
<p>She sighed, motioning to the notes and parchments in front of her. "I was trying to process it all before you strolled in here with your ridiculous notion of owning a muggle motorbike!"</p>
<p>"And?"</p>
<p>"And… It went… I don't know. <em>Fine</em>, I guess? Although, he's certainly not a <em>new</em> Werewolf."</p>
<p>Harry arched an eyebrow. "No?"</p>
<p>"No." She confirmed. "He claims to have been bitten August of 1998."</p>
<p>Harry narrowed his eyes and she could see him trying to make the connection of dates. "August? You're certain? Isn't that when he was acquitted?"</p>
<p>"Yes." She nodded, offering a kind smile as John refilled her glass. "Yes, it was. Apparently, it was Greyback."</p>
<p>"<em>Greyback</em>? He doesn't turn them! He just… Well, you went to his den! You saw what the fuck he does to them!" He sounded outraged.</p>
<p>"Harry, calm down. We're in a pub!" She whispered, catching John's quizzical glare and a few eyes of other patrons. "I know. That's why it's so… intriguing."</p>
<p>"Intriguing." Harry repeated the word. "Why would he turn Malfoy if he had no need for a pack? That doesn't make sense."</p>
<p>"I agree." She said. "And his answer to that was control."</p>
<p>Harry nodded, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle in front of him. "I can see that. The Malfoy's own several properties throughout the U.K., not mention any off shore properties or accounts. It would be beneficial to have that magnitude of wealth in your pocket."</p>
<p>She shook her head. "He said control of <em>him</em>. Of Malfoy, specifically."</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"I don't know." She said. "Harry… there's one more thing he said that is… particularly <em>concerning</em>."</p>
<p>"All right, I'm listening."</p>
<p>"He said he didn't take his first transformation until September-</p>
<p>"Well, it would make sense if he-</p>
<p>"No, no. Let me finish." She said, taking a sip from her glass. "September of 1999."</p>
<p>Harry had just brought his bottle to his lips when she finished her statement and he sputtered on the lager in his throat. He gave himself a few firm beats against his chest as air returned to him. "1999?! Are you certain?"</p>
<p>"I said the same thing. He managed to fight off transformation for a full year. Harry, that almost <em>ensures</em> he's an alpha. If he hasn't started collecting pack members yet, it's only a matter of time before it happens."</p>
<p>"Are you going back?" He asked, worry peppering his tone.</p>
<p>"I'll have to in order to present him with his formal registration documents and explain the process. He looked <em>so different</em> too." She said, the memory of his scarred face and unseeing eye floating around her head.</p>
<p>Harry chuckled. "He isn't the only one, I'm sure." He motioned to himself. "You don't even look the same as you did in school."</p>
<p>"You went out of your way to cover yourself in those painful tattoos." She said. "It's a bit different than unwillingly being infected with Lycanthropy."</p>
<p>He shrugged. "Maybe. I like the pain of the needles though. It's therapeutic."</p>
<p>"It's barmy." She said.</p>
<p>As the conversation shifted from Malfoy to Harry and his ridiculous notion of adrenaline-fueled healing, they talked and drank well into the night. Harry revealed his uncertainty of his relationship with Ginny, she wanted a ring and he wasn't sure he wanted to give one to her. They talked about their plans for the weekend and Harry talked about a case he and Blaise Zabini were working on with the other Aurors that might take him from home for an extended bit of time in the coming months.</p>
<p>She knew Harry loved it, being out in the field, the thrill of the chase. Godric knows she loved it too, but she worried for him when he was gone. Often times, he was unable to write, for fear it would give away his location, and she became nervous that one day she may get a visit from Kingsley explaining Harry's death while on a mission.</p>
<p>She stuffed that thought back into the compartment of her brain it had come from. Harry was <em>more</em> than capable of looking after himself and protecting himself. Hell, he even looked after her more often than not. She could tell the idea of going to Malfoy's alone again perturbed him, but he dropped it fairly quickly.</p>
<p>As the night wore on, she found herself stumbling back to their flat, Harry leaning against her in support—whether for himself or for her, she couldn't tell—and finally she fell into her bed after knocking off her shoes and tossing her bag on the desk in her room. As she fell into a whiskey-fueled sleep, her mind floated back to Malfoy's menacing gaze and the smell of whiskey, rain and earth that encompassed him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bruises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Four</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Bruises</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione rolled over and instantly realized her mistake when her stomach lurched forward and she felt the bite of acid in the back of her throat begin to claim her mouth. She had only <em>just</em>made it to the loo when she heaved and the foul-smelling contents of her stomach forced past her lips and hit the cold water of the porcelain.</p>
<p>She heard the door creak open and felt a hand pulling her hair from her face as another soothed slow circles into her back, just between her shoulders.</p>
<p>Harry's voice cooed and whispered "That's it, better out than in, love." As she continued to hurl into the toilet.</p>
<p>When she was finally done, she sat back, falling onto her rear, her back against the bathtub as she gratefully accepted the glass of water Harry thrusted into her hands.</p>
<p>She took a few slow sips, trying to wash the acid from her mouth and soothe the burning in her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hands and sighed as Harry wrapped an elastic band around her curls, creating a knot at the top of her head to keep her hair from falling in her face again.</p>
<p>"Better?" He asked, sinking down to the floor next to her.</p>
<p>She nodded. "Yeah."</p>
<p>"I called you out of work. Bringham was irritated, but he always is."</p>
<p>"Thanks. What time is it?"</p>
<p>"Just after eight." He said.</p>
<p>"Shouldn't you be at the Ministry by now?"</p>
<p>He shrugged. "Probably. I wanted to make sure you were okay before I went in. Do you remember much of last night?"</p>
<p>She closed her eyes, pointing her nose skyward as her hands rested on the back of her neck. She tried to remember…</p>
<p>She had come home from work after receiving notice that Malfoy's registration had been denied. She owled him to let him know she'd be coming to the Manor to discuss his registration status in person before noon today. Harry wasn't home so she went to the market to get groceries. When she got home, she put everything away and then she heard the floo-</p>
<p>"Ron." Was all she said, scrunching up her face to try and remember the details.</p>
<p>"Do you remember what happened?" Harry pressed again.</p>
<p>She shook her head. "Not really, no."</p>
<p>Harry sighed. "Ron dropped in last night to give me one of the new racing brooms his staff has been developing. I wasn't home because Ginny and I made dinner plans."</p>
<p>"Oh, that Italian spot, right? By the Ministry?"</p>
<p>"Yeah." Harry said.</p>
<p>"How was it?"</p>
<p>"It was fine." His tone was short, irritated almost. "Hermione, you don't remember anything that happened?"</p>
<p>She closed her eyes, feeling her stomach churn again. "I remember we got into an argument. I told him it was rude to drop in unannounced and he claimed he had told you he would be coming over to leave the broom."</p>
<p>"And?"</p>
<p>She looked at him, confused. "Harry, you'd better just spit it out. I can't remember everything that happened yet, I already told you that. I've only just woke up…"</p>
<p>He sighed and stood up, pulling her to her feet. "I've sent an owl to George for some of his bruise paste." He began explaining. "But I'm not sure when it will be here. You may want to reschedule your appointment with Malfoy to another day."</p>
<p>She felt a stray curl fall from the rushed bun on her head and as she swiped it from her face she winced. "Shit." She breathed, turning to look in the mirror.</p>
<p>The right side of her face was swollen. A large purple bruise encased her cheekbone and her lip was split. She looked as if she had taken a bludger to the face and she felt her chest sink as she saw worry and fury flash through the emerald eyes that were staring at her. She slowly brought a hand up to touch the puffy skin and she blew air through her teeth as it seared under the pressure.</p>
<p>"What'd I say to set him off, this time?" She asked, pulling her eyes from her reflection and staring at Harry.</p>
<p>"I don't know. When I came home you were already passed out at the kitchen table."</p>
<p>"How much did I drink?" She asked, furrowing her brows, trying to recall what had happened.</p>
<p>"You killed two bottles of wine and the rest of the whiskey." He said.</p>
<p>"Ron had gone already then?"</p>
<p>He nodded. "I assumed you had gotten into an argument so I put you to bed and went to his place."</p>
<p>They walked into the kitchen and she sat at the table, thankful that Harry had already made her a pot of coffee. He poured the liquid into the mug and rifled through the bottom cabinet. "We have gin, vodka, that ghastly coffee liqueur you brought home from the states… Oh, here's a bit of bourbon…" He pulled the bottle out, swirling the contents around.</p>
<p>Hermione nodded. "Bourbon will do."</p>
<p>He grunted, pouring some into the cup before handing it to her. "Apparently Hannah is pregnant." He said.</p>
<p>She choked on the bourbon spiked coffee as the memory of the night before came flooding back to her, seeping into her mind and tearing the breath from her lungs.</p>
<p>"<em>I didn't know you'd be here, Hermione! I came to give Harry the broom and tell him the news and I didn't know you were here!"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>She rolled her eyes, refilling her wine glass and taking a few long sips. "If you would have called first, then you would have known he wasn't here. Leave it to you to think ahead."</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>For fuck's sake! I'm sorry! I should have called first but I told him I was coming tonight! He must have forgotten! Whatever, it's fine. Can you just tell him I stopped by and I'll be back tomorrow to talk to him?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>I don't see what's so important that you have to come back. Can't you just owl?" She spat, irritated at the thought of running into him again. "Or at least tell me when you'll be here so I can make sure that I'm not?"</em></p>
<p>"<em>Sure, yeah! Whatever." He was aggravated. "Still drinking like a fish then, I see?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>She huffed an annoyed sigh. "What I do is none of your business, anymore."</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Well when you're sozzled in muggle pubs and hexing me in front of my girlfriend-</em></p>
<p>"<em>I was not </em>sozzled<em> Ronald. I hexed you because you were being an arse. Kind of like you are right now!"</em></p>
<p>"<em>You are </em>always<em> sozzled, Hermione! You think Harry wants to keep fucking taking care of your drunk arse all the time?! We're trying to move on with our lives and you just insist on acting like an idiot teenager!"</em></p>
<p>"<em>I have never asked Harry-</em></p>
<p>"<em>Of course, you haven't </em>asked<em> him to take care of you! But he does it anyway because you can't do it for yourself! Look at you! It's not even half six and you're already stumbling!"</em></p>
<p>"<em>I can take care of myself, thank you very much! I'm a grown witch! I went to work and came home today and if I want to have a few drinks to unwind-</em></p>
<p>"<em>It's not a few drinks to unwind when you're a bottle of wine deep and judging by the flush of your face a few shots of Firewhiskey in too! You need help, Hermione."</em></p>
<p>"<em>You don't know what you're talking about!" She yelled, outraged. "I don't need help. I'm perfectly capable of-</em></p>
<p>"<em>Of fucking everything up? Because that's all you've done for </em>years<em>! How long will you live off of Harry? How long will you keep drinking at work- and don't even act like you don't, I know you still keep bottles in your desk! You always have! How long will you keep killing yourself and blaming me?! You know what, I don't have the fucking time to go round in this circle with you anymore. Hannah's pregnant. So, there, you can tell Harry that way I don't have to come back."</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione emptied her glass and filled it again, tossing the empty bottle into the rubbish bin. "I am not living off of Harry, Ron! I pay him rent! I buy groceries! And who cares if I keep bottles in my desk? It's none of your business! I do my job and I do it well! I suppose if it makes you feel better to think none of this is your fault, than fine. But Merlin help that fucking spawn and it's mother because I'm assuming it won't take much longer before shit gets too real for you there and you blow up on her too!"</em>
</p>
<p>"<em>Yeah, so well you got demoted for using magic on those muggles, right?" He yelled, his face a darker shade red than his hair and his eyes narrowing into furious slits. He stepped forward, shortening the space between them. "Fuck you, Hermione! You took my fucking Quidditch career from me! You took my best fucking mate away from me! I only-</em></p>
<p>"<em>I didn't take anything away from you! You fucking did that yourself! You did that the moment you put your hands on me! Tell me, Ronald, how many necklaces have you had to buy for her?! How many expensive dinners and bouquets of flowers have you sent to her?! How many fucking bracelets are sitting in her jewelry box from your fucking mistakes?!" Her voice was hoarse from the force of the screaming, bitter words coming from her throat. Tears stinging her eyes as she looked into his angry face.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Ron stormed toward her, hatred and anger practically radiating from his body as he grabbed the glass from her hand and threw it. She jumped, a yelp tearing through her lips as it smashed against the wall, the red of the wine staining the cream paint as the glass clattered to the tile floor.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She clenched her teeth, blowing hot, furious air through her nose as she watched his hand ball into a fist before colliding with the right side of her face.</em>
</p>
<p>Hermione's eyes prickled as she swallowed the lump in her throat upon recalling the events that had unfolded the night before. She looked past Harry, staring at the wall where the wine glass had shattered, the faintest trail of a 1987 Merlot visible against the paint.</p>
<p>"You went to his place, you said?" She asked Harry, who was sipping at his tea and staring at her. She tore her eyes away from the wall to meet his gaze.</p>
<p>"Yeah." He said. "When I got to his flat, he was fuming still."</p>
<p>He tightened his grip on his mug and it was only then, underneath the patches of ink lining his hands, did she notice the knuckles on his left hand were split slightly and swollen. He noticed her line of sight and pushed his hands through his hair, tucking the strands behind his ears.</p>
<p>"What did you do, Harry?" She whispered.</p>
<p>She saw his left eye twitch as he sucked at his teeth. Abruptly, he stood from the table, walking back to the counter and filling his mug with water from the kettle, adding another bag of tea and staring out the window over the sink as the tea steeped a moment.</p>
<p>"Nothing he hasn't done to you." He answered, his back ramrod stiff and his hands clenching the edge of the counter. "Cancel your meeting with Malfoy." He said, taking a sip from the mug and turning back to face her.</p>
<p>She sighed. "I can't. There's a time limit on the appeals and if I wait until after the weekend-</p>
<p>"Fuck the appeals!" He said. "Hermione, you can't go looking like this. Your face all bloodied up! He's a damn <em>Werewolf</em>. Control isn't really in their nature. You remember how Remus used to get around blood! And he was with people all the time! If you go there, you're risking him lunging at you and… And I can't…" He trailed off, collecting his thoughts for a moment while she sipped her coffee.</p>
<p>"Harry, I have to go today." She said. "I'm the only one in the department that can file the appeal and it has to be filed within 72 hours of being rejected. I can't wait until Monday to go."</p>
<p>"I'll talk to Kingsley, have him prolong the appeal process and-</p>
<p>"It's up to Mr. Bringham." Hermione said. "And he hates you almost as much as he dislikes me. You can't keep calling in favors to the <em>Minister</em> on my behalf. I can handle it."</p>
<p>Harry sighed, looking down at his watch. "I have to go." He said. "I've got Blaise starting the training but he's useless when it comes to the new kids." He rose from his seat again and set his mug in the sink. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and pushed his arms into it before leaning down and pressing a kiss into her hair. "I used a healing charm, but you know I'm rubbish at those. You might be able to glamour it until George sends the tin from Wheezes."</p>
<p>She nodded. "I'll do that. I'll see you tonight."</p>
<p>Harry nodded. "I'll be home late, try to stay in, okay? I don't know if he would be stupid enough to come around and try to apologize or anything… But my floo is warded now, so he won't be able to get in. If you go out, I can't help you if I'm not there."</p>
<p>"I'll come straight home." She promised.</p>
<p>He looked down at her and she saw the Lily tattoo on his throat bob as he swallowed back his anger. She tried her best to offer him a small smile before he left, guilt flooding her chest. Harry sighed when he stepped into the fireplace and she heard the Floo erupt. Ron had been right, no matter how much she hated to admit it. Harry had been picking up the pieces of her life for far too long.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet in front of the large door of Malfoy Manor. Her head was throbbing, and while she did her best to do a decent glamour to cover up the damage, she knew her face was still puffy.</p>
<p>She huffed a breath, forcing her hand to create a fist, and knocked lightly on the door. She nearly stumbled backward when the door opened almost as soon as her knuckles grazed the wood.</p>
<p>"I had wondered," Malfoy's low drawl cut through the air. "How long you were going to stand here before knocking. Four minutes, by the way."</p>
<p>She clenched her jaw and tilted her chin up to look at him. He looked much more put together this time than he had a week ago. But then, the full moon had been just days before her last visit.</p>
<p>"Are you going to invite me in?" She asked.</p>
<p>"I assume you're here to tell me of my rejection." He said, moving to the side to let her slip past him. As she slithered between the opening and his body, the strong, earthy scent that rolled off him last time invaded her nostrils again. He stooped low, rejecting her glare, and looked curiously at the right side of her face. "What happened to you?"</p>
<p>"I don't see how that's any of your concern." She said, curtly. "Where would you like to discuss the matter of your registration?"</p>
<p>"All business with you, isn't it?" He said, the hint of a smirk tugging his lips upward. "The sitting room will do. My office is undergoing some repairs, at the moment."</p>
<p>"Repairs?" She asked, her interest piqued.</p>
<p>"So, you're allowed to ask questions about my life, but I can't ask questions about yours?" Malfoy said, turning the corner and leading her into a massive sitting room.</p>
<p>The room was easily half the size of the modest flat she shared with Harry. It had four antique sofas that were beautifully embroidered and looked to cost as much as her yearly salary. There were a few small side tables and a matching coffee table that sat upon a plush rug. There were several ornate mirrors, all trimmed in glinting jewels, that were placed tastefully on the walls and the fireplace, with a large portrait of the Malfoy Family hanging above it. The young Draco's face sneered down at her in distaste before exiting the frame, followed by the painted Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.</p>
<p>"Tea?" He asked. "Or do you prefer to sip Firewhiskey at all your meetings?"</p>
<p>Her jaw tightened and she tore her eyes away from a tank that was built into the wall, containing several types of exotic fish. "Tea is fine. You don't seem the type to have a fish tank in your home."</p>
<p>"No?" He chuckled. "I suppose not. Epsichlys appreciates the calming nature of them swimming, however."</p>
<p>She tilted her head, crossing her ankles as she accepted the cup of tea from his hand. "Epsichlys?"</p>
<p>"My Wolf." He said, his clouded right eye seemed to flicker in acknowledgement.</p>
<p>"You've named your lycanthropic manifestation?" She asked, taking a sip of the tea. She wondered how he knew to use honey, instead of sugar in her cup.</p>
<p>"No, I didn't." He said, taking a long sip from his own cup.</p>
<p>She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn't, she realized she may have asked an intrusive question. "Sorry." She apologized. "I didn't mean to-</p>
<p>He held up a hand, settling his back into the sofa. "No matter. So, I assume you being here isn't good news."</p>
<p>"I <em>did</em> say I would visit again to let you know the status of your registration." She said, looking into her lap for moment before meeting his gaze. "However, no. I do not bring good news. Your registration was rejected."</p>
<p>"On what terms?"</p>
<p>"Falsified information." She said. "The ministry seems to think you're lying about the date of transformation."</p>
<p>"I've no reason to lie about it." He said. "I went this long without registering and decided to finally do it. Why would I put myself on the list of registered beasts if I planned to lie about the information requested?"</p>
<p>"Why would you wait so long, in the first place?" She asked. "Why wait nearly eight years to register?"</p>
<p>"I told you, Granger."</p>
<p>"Yes." She said, setting her cup on its saucer. She clasped her hands and returned them to her lap, looking pointedly at Malfoy through narrowed eyes. "You said you waited for me to take office. How did you know I would?"</p>
<p>A sly smile pulled his lips upward. "I assume, you know the laws, being as it's your department and all." He began. "By registering, I lose my rights to my property. I lose my ability to marry freely. I lose all shares in my own company… Unless-</p>
<p>"Unless the Ministry has awarded leniency through observation and proof of meaningful contribution to society. Yes, I know. That still doesn't answer my question."</p>
<p>"Doesn't it?" He asked, quickly standing up from his place on the sofa and pacing around the room. "You will be the one who handles my case, yes? So, you would be the determining factor of whether or not I'm fit to be in society."</p>
<p>"You're dancing around the question, Malfoy." She spat, feeling irritated and <em>dammit my head is pounding.</em> "Why wait eight years?"</p>
<p>"You weren't in the department eight years ago, Granger. While you were off hunting death eaters, breaking up slave rings and capturing Werewolves like <em>Greyback</em>. I was waiting my turn!" His voice was suddenly furious, spitting venom into the air. "I have been waiting for <em>years</em> to be able to leave! Trapped in this fucking house, waiting for Greyback to come finish what he started!"</p>
<p>"You didn't register out of <em>fear</em>?" She asked. "You were afraid he'd track you through the Ministry's files?"</p>
<p>"Clever little witch." He hissed. "Finally put the pieces together? If I registered before Greyback's capture, he could have easily gotten to that thick bloke before you and gotten past my wards."</p>
<p>"You said he wanted control of you, why?" She asked.</p>
<p>He barked a mirthless laugh that sounded so disturbingly like an actual <em>bark</em>, Hermione steeled her gaze for a moment, trying to hide her surprise at the ferocious sound.</p>
<p>"You aren't the only one with <em>secrets</em>, Granger." He said. "You aren't the only one whose past haunts them. The only difference is mine is attached to a wolf."</p>
<p>Hermione bit back a frustrated sigh. This was going nowhere. Malfoy was talking in circles, purposefully dancing around her questions. "So, you want to appeal?" She asked. "You want to become registered."</p>
<p>"I am willing to pay for the Wolfsbane potion to be distributed to the wolves that were infected during Greyback's reign of terror." He said. "Is that enough of a contribution?"</p>
<p>She choked, sputtering on the air in her lungs. "Malfoy, that's easily over a million Galleons."</p>
<p>"Do you want a check, or do I need to take it out in gold?" He snapped.</p>
<p>"That will drain you. I can't-</p>
<p>"That will barely cause a dent in my wallet." He said. "File the appeal, attach an official letter stating my offer, owl me the price."</p>
<p>With that, he turned heading toward the foyer from which they entered. "And Granger?" He said, looking over his shoulder. "You may be able to glamour your face, but I can smell the blood that has risen beneath your skin. Don't come back here with that scent on you again."</p>
<p>She jumped slightly when the slamming of a door echoed through the Manor. Gathering her thoughts, she quickly showed herself out, trying to ignore the gentle shake that had started in her fingers again.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione paced the floor of the living room, sipping the amber liquid from her glass, as she waited for Harry to finish getting ready.</p>
<p>She <em>really</em> hated Ministry gatherings.</p>
<p>The paparazzi swarmed these ridiculous parties, there were always too many people in the room, it was loud, and the new Auror Trainees were sure to be annoying and obsessive when it came to being around Harry.</p>
<p>This was also the first event since her demotion, and she was <em>not</em> looking forward to answering questions.</p>
<p>"Remind me again why Ginny isn't going with you?" Hermione called to Harry, over the rim of her glass. He emerged from the room and Hermione smirked at him. "You look nice."</p>
<p>Harry was wearing a pair of high waisted dress trousers, the length of which were a <em>bit</em> too short, so he cuffed the ankles. His white Oxford button down shirt was clinging to his chest, the top two buttons undone and the fitted jacket with the satin lapels hugged his biceps. She had always thought Harry cleaned up well, especially once he began to bulk up from Auror training. His hair was managed slightly better than usual, pulled back into a low bun and looked as if he'd actually brushed it and he had groomed his beard.</p>
<p>"Thanks, you too." He said.</p>
<p>She sighed looking down at her petal pink dress. "You don't think the neckline is too much?"</p>
<p>"It's plunging." He chuckled. "But, it's attractive, so I'd say it's fine. Did you put makeup on?"</p>
<p>She nodded. "I occasionally wear makeup, Harry." She rolled her eyes. "Given that I'm supposed to look my best for this blasted ceremony, it felt warranted. You didn't answer my question though. Why isn't Ginny going?"</p>
<p>Harry sighed, taking the tumbler from her hand and taking a sip from it. "This scotch isn't very good." He said, making a face.</p>
<p>"It was cheap." She said. "Why isn't Ginny going, Harry?"</p>
<p>He sat on the edge of the sofa and scratched at his beard, yanking at the lapels of his suit jacket to straighten it out. "She's angry at me, so she decided to run an extra practice tonight."</p>
<p>"Why is she upset?"</p>
<p>"Probably because I broke Ron's nose a week and a half ago, if I had to guess." He grumbled.</p>
<p>"So, he comes here, knocks my face in and she gets upset with you for returning the favor?" Hermione asked, incredulously.</p>
<p>"You know as well as I do that Ron didn't tell her <em>why</em> I showed up at two in the morning and walloped him." Harry said, staring at her pointedly.</p>
<p>Hermione sighed, sitting next to him and taking the glass back from his hand, tossing back the last of it before setting it on the small coffee table. "Are you ever going to tell her?"</p>
<p>"That her brother is an abusive sack of dragon shit and <em>that's</em> why I don't want to be mates with him anymore?" Harry said, arching an eyebrow to her. "Do you think she'd even believe me?"</p>
<p>She shrugged. "Maybe. She might end up giving him an earful about it. Maybe he'll get his anger under control before that baby comes."</p>
<p>Harry stood, crossing the room and opening the closet by the door. He pulled out his best pair of shoes, slipping them onto his feet before grabbing a pair of light pink, pointed toe heels. He walked back to Hermione, kneeling in front of her and began tying the straps around her ankles.</p>
<p>"I'm certain the anger is only a problem where we're involved these days." Harry said, sadly. "He seemed happy when we played quidditch together. Happier than he's been in a long time. Besides, you know how Ginny feels about the drinking." He looked up at her, his hand resting against her ankle.</p>
<p>"When Ginny has been through a fifth of what we have, she can have a say in how I deal with it." Hermione said.</p>
<p>Harry sighed, standing to his full height and holding an arm out to her. "Shall we?"</p>
<p>Hermione pushed her wild curls over her shoulder and took his arm, standing and following him into the fireplace to Floo to the Ministry's atrium.</p>
<p>The atrium was filled with people when they stepped out of the fireplace. There were tables lining the far side, each spot with a place card for reserved seating for guests. There was a string quartet in the furthest corner of the room, playing soft music that some of the older Wizengamot members were already waltzing to. There were dozens of small trays of hors d'oeuvres floating between the mingling guests and several bow-tie clad young wizards and witches walking around with trays of champagne.</p>
<p>"Harry! Hermione!" A loud voice boomed from the center of the room.</p>
<p>Kingsley Shacklebolt stood, wearing his royal blue Minister dress robes, arms open as he crossed the space to greet them. He gave Harry a firm handshake and clap to the arm and leaned in to place a light kiss to Hermione's cheek.</p>
<p>"Ms. Weasley unable to join us tonight?" He asked.</p>
<p>"She's got practice." Harry said. "Opening game is a week away."</p>
<p>"Ah, yes!" Kingsley smiled. "How could I forget! I've already got my tickets ready!"</p>
<p>Harry smiled politely and Hermione looked around, eyeing the tray of champagne moving past her.</p>
<p>"The graduation ceremony was a success!" Kingsley said. "All of your new Aurors passed with flying colors, Harry. I dare say you are the most successful department head since me!"</p>
<p>Harry smiled. "I'm not sure about that." He chuckled.</p>
<p>"Hermione, how are you fairing in your new department? Garret Bringham has said you've been working to fine tune registration practices?"</p>
<p>"Well, that's a bit of stretch if I'm being honest Kings—Minister. Although, I would like to set up a meeting with you soon to touch on that more. The system we have in place now is radically flawed."</p>
<p>"And I would love to hear your views on it!" He smiled. "Now, I must go mingle with the rest. Duty calls, as it is!" He gave them one last smile before sweeping across the room to shake hands with a few newcomers.</p>
<p>Hermione quickly took the leave to grab to glasses of champagne off the tray of the serving witch that was passing. She handed one to Harry and sipped from her own. "He sure has settled in nicely to being Minister, hasn't he?" Hermione chuckled. "He's becoming more and more diplomatic."</p>
<p>Harry laughed. "If that's what you want to call it."</p>
<p>They walked about the room for a few minutes, politely chatting in small talk with a few people here and there. Hermione downed three more glasses of champagne and was working on another when they were stopped by a few of the new Auror apprenticeship graduates.</p>
<p>"Hi, Auror Potter!" The one boy said. He was thin and tall, with fair hair and dark eyes. He looked the exact opposite of the beefed up boys who had graduated with him.</p>
<p>"Hello, Isaac." Harry said.</p>
<p>They chatted a few moments, Hermione tuning them out as she swayed lightly to the music playing. Her attention was brought back to the conversation when Isaac began to ask her questions.</p>
<p>"Miss. Granger, I heard you're working in the Department of Magical Creatures and Beings now?" He asked.</p>
<p>She nodded. "I am."</p>
<p>"Could I ask you a question? I- I don't want to pry, if you aren't able to give the information… Or-or if it would affect your job…"</p>
<p>She arched an eyebrow to him, folding and arm over her chest as she held her glass in the other hand. "Yes?"</p>
<p>"Well, you see… Ma'am… My sister was one of the kids that got turned before Greyback's capture. You and Auror Potter's work to bring him down is one of the reasons I decided to become an Auror."</p>
<p>Hermione took a slow sip of the champagne and looked to Harry, who gave a small smile. He clearly knew this information already. "Okay." She said, failing to see where he was going with his comment.</p>
<p>"Well, it's just… My sister relies on the Ministry for her Wolfsbane. And, I've heard that there was a large donation of Wolfsbane made. I wondered if, if it was possible… If Eliza might be able to apply to get the potion? It's so expensive and on my salary…" He looked sheepishly to Harry. "Not that it isn't-</p>
<p>"It's not enough." Harry said, knowingly.</p>
<p>Isaac nodded. "I'm the only person she's got. No one will hire her and we can't always afford the Wolfsbane, so… You know, some months she has to go without… Which makes the recovery worse than it is to begin with… I just… If there's a way we can get on that list…"</p>
<p>Hermione's heart broke for Isaac and his sister. This was what had driven her decision to take on Magical Creatures and Beings. The ability to <em>do something</em> for these beasts—these <em>people</em>, who otherwise were swept under the rug.</p>
<p>"You said Eliza is unemployed?" Hermione asked.</p>
<p>Isaac nodded. "She doesn't qualify for Ministry issued Wolfsbane because she isn't able to contribute to society. But she can't contribute unless she has reliable access to the potion-</p>
<p>"Which you can't afford to give her on one meager salary." Hermione said, a frown pulling at her lips.</p>
<p>"I know there's tape to go through." He said. "I know that asking a-a <em>favor</em> is frowned upon. And I've only just become a real Auror today, but… Please, Miss Granger, if there's <em>anything</em> you can do? Or even, if you can point me in the direction of some resources that may help. I-I'll do anything."</p>
<p>Hermione thought on it for a minute, sipping at her glass and looking at Harry. "Do you trust him?" She asked, motioning her hand to Isaac.</p>
<p>Harry shrugged. "He's top of his class, the only person with higher test scores in Auror history was you. His strategical mind is brilliant, he's quick on his feet and doesn't aim to kill."</p>
<p>"I didn't ask about his qualities, Harry." She said, her voice firm. She caught the hint of a surprised snort come from Isaac. "I asked if you trust him."</p>
<p>Harry looked at her for a long moment before tearing his eyes away to look over Isaac. "Yeah." Harry said, nodding. "Yeah, of all the apprentices this year, I think I'd rather my life be in his hands than any of the others."</p>
<p>A look of shock fell upon Isaac's face. "Auror P-Potter… I… That's so nice of you to say."</p>
<p>"It's true." Harry said.</p>
<p>Hermione sighed. "Come to my office Monday morning. Let's say, eleven?"</p>
<p>"Oh, I've got martial training that day and it won't-</p>
<p>"Lucky for you," Hermione said. "I'm very good friends with the head of your department and I think he'll let you skive off just this once." She smiled and winked at Harry who laughed and shook his head.</p>
<p>"Not even in the department anymore and you're calling the shots." Harry chuckled. "Alright, Hermione. You can have him Monday morning. I want him back by one, though."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Auror Potter and-and Miss Granger. I'll be there. Eleven, sharp!" Isaac shook their hands and smiled brightly before turning and taking his leave across the room.</p>
<p>Hermione watched as he crossed the room, her brows furrowed in thought. If she were to do any good in this department, she had to quit shuffling parchment around. She needed to start actually helping people and start working to rewrite the laws and guidelines. She felt a glimmer of a long forgotten determination bloom in her chest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Please keep reviewing! Next chapter will be up next monday! (maybe before if I get ahead!)<br/>I just want to remind anyone reading that I will not be marking t/w to individual chapters in order to keep spoilers out. The only exception to that will be dub/con or non/con (as of right now, I have neither of those planned for this story. However, who knows?)<br/>Blanket Trigger Warnings throughout the story include: Substance abuse, alcohol abuse, violence, self harm/destruction, domestic abuse<br/>If triggers change or need added, I will then add it to the beginning of the chapter, but as it stands, the above listed are most prevalent in this fic.<br/>Again, thanks for reading!<br/>xo<br/>Mimi</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Five</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Secrets</em>
</p><hr/><p>"Well that was a ridiculously long-winded way of saying congratulations." Harry said as he stumbled through the fireplace and into their flat.</p><p>Hermione chuckled and picked herself up off the floor from where she had fallen upon landing. "At least the champagne was good." She slurred. "Help me take these fucking shoes off. My feet are killing me."</p><p>Harry was in the process of discarding his suit jacket onto the sofa and walked over to Hermione, guiding her to the cushions and kneeling before her to untie the laces from around her ankles.</p><p>"Thanks." She said.</p><p>He nodded and stood, walking into the kitchen and rummaging through the bottom shelf of their cabinet, pulling out an unopened bottle of Fire Whiskey. "I have tomorrow off. Want to keep the night going?" Harry asked, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he swayed the bottle from side to side.</p><p>"Potter, you know I do. Question is, can you keep up?" She laughed.</p><p>He smiled and pulled two glasses from the cabinet, pulling the top off the bottle and filling the glasses almost to the brim. He stumbled back into the living room, cursing as the whiskey sloshed over the side of the glass and landed on his socks.</p><p>"Isaac was essited to talk you." He slurred, taking a long gulp from his glass. "Been askin all week if you were coming."</p><p>"I hope I can help him." She said. "I'll figure something out by Monday."</p><p>"You always do." He agreed.</p><p>As the night turned to the early hours of the morning, Harry and Hermione became more inebriated. They talked about the new Aurors, many of which Harry thought wouldn't last a year. They discussed in length her new position in the Magical Creatures department, and what changes she hoped to see once Mr. Bringham left.</p><p>"You know," Harry said. Looking up at Hermione, his head in her lap as she combed her fingers through his hair. "I don't think me and Ginny are going to last much longer."</p><p>Her hand stilled in his hair and she looked down at him. "Why do you think that?"</p><p>He shrugged. "She wants me to quit field work." He said. "She wants to get married and start a family. But… I don't know if I want to start a family yet, Hermione. I don't think I want to have kids yet."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>Again, his shoulders pulled up and he sighed. "I just don't think I want to have them with Ginny. Not that she wouldn't be a good mum. Of course, she would."</p><p>"Then what's the problem?"</p><p>"She's just too… <em>Ginny</em>. You know? She's amazing, but she still is so blind to everything. She refuses to believe Ron has done what he's done. She's angry that we still live together, but she won't move in, even though I've asked her a dozen times…"</p><p>"Maybe she doesn't want to move in because she doesn't want to live with me, Harry." Hermione said. "According to Ron, I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to the Wizarding World. If she's still close with him…"</p><p>"She tries to be nice and understanding when she's here. It just seems so… Forced anymore though." Harry said.</p><p>Hermione shrugged. "You don't need to make a decision tonight. You're very drunk, it probably would be best if you <em>didn't</em> think any more on it."</p><p>"Yeah. I guess you're right." He sighed and nuzzled his face into her lower belly. "You're always right, 'Mione."</p><p>She smiled down at him and shifted his head from her lap. "Come on, lets get you to bed. I need to take a shower, anyway."</p><p>He grumbled incoherently as he rose to his feet, swaying where he stood. She chuckled as he stumbled down the hall and into his room. She closed the door to the bathroom, turning on the tap and getting the water the right temperature. As she pulled her dress and undergarments off, she could hear Harry shuffling around the flat again. She shook her head and chuckled lightly to herself as she stepped under the steaming water.</p><p>She sighed, running her hands through her hair to help work in the water. She was deep in her own thoughts, lathering shampoo into her hair when the shower curtain opened and Harry stepped in.</p><p>"Harry, love, what are you doing?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.</p><p>"Taking a shower." He said.</p><p>"I can see that. But I'm using the shower."</p><p>"I can see that." He mimicked. "But I want to use the shower."</p><p>She pursed her lips, surveying his face. "You're drunk, Harry."</p><p>"So are you." He retorted.</p><p>"Yes, but I don't have a longtime girlfriend." She said.</p><p>"Be weird if you did." Harry said. "I didn't know you liked girls."</p><p>She huffed, dipping her head back into the stream to rinse the soap from her mane. "I don't."</p><p>He shuffled closer to her and reached forward, working his fingers into her hair to help rinse the suds. "It's been a long time since we…" He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper.</p><p>"With good reason." Hermione reminded him. "Because you felt guilty, because you're dating Ginny."</p><p>"What if I don't feel guilty anymore?"</p><p>"Why wouldn't you? You're still together." She reminded him yet again, shifting from the water to let him under the stream.</p><p>"I don't love her anymore, Hermione." He said, his voice flat. He cracked one eye open under the water to look at her. "I'm not sure I ever did."</p><p>She squeezed the bottle of body wash onto her loofah and began to lather it. "Of course, you did!" She said.</p><p>"Did I?" He asked. "Same way you loved Ron, maybe?"</p><p>She scowled, beginning to scrub at her arms. "Ron and I were a product of war and forced comfort." She said. "There was no love in that house. There never had been."</p><p>"I think Ginny is seeing Blaise behind my back." Harry said, scrubbing the shampoo into his hair. "I caught her bringing him lunch a couple weeks ago. That's why I was so home so late the night Ron came over. I brought it up at dinner."</p><p>Hermione blanched, looking up from the leg she was scrubbing. "What?"</p><p>Harry's lips pressed in a thin line as he nodded, reaching for his own wash and loofah. "Yeah." He said, lathering the soap on the loofah. "I'm pretty sure that's what her extra Quidditch practices are, as well."</p><p>"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Hermione asked, continuing her scrubbing.</p><p>Harry shrugged. "Didn't want to think about it, I guess." He turned around and handed her the suds sponge. "Get my back?"</p><p>She obliged, scrubbing his back and shoulders and handing it back to him to rinse off. Once he did, she motioned for him to move out the water so that she could also rinse the soap from her body. He grabbed her own sponge from her and she pulled her hair around her shoulder to her chest so that he could scrub her back.</p><p>When he finished, he dropped her loofah to the floor of the tub and lightly grazed his fingers over her shoulders. She felt him press his chest to her back as he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder.</p><p>"We can't be together, Harry." She said. "You know that."</p><p>"I know." He whispered, his lips moving against her shoulder. "That's not what I'm saying."</p><p>"Even if you do split with Ginny, it wouldn't work."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>She felt her resolve faltering as he placed soft kisses to her shoulder and up her neck. She sighed. It <em>had</em> been forever since she had been with anyone. Over a year, if she could remember correctly, some muggle she went home with from the bar… She and Harry hadn't been together since she moved in three years ago… She had regretted the times before that, always knowing how guilty it made him to be unfaithful to Ginny.</p><p>But if Ginny <em>was </em>seeing Blaise Zabini, and Harry really didn't want to marry her…</p><p>It had been ages since she had someone besides herself…</p><p>"One time." She whispered. "Just this once, Harry. We can't do this all the time."</p><p>"Just tonight." Harry agreed, lightly sucking the spot below her ear.</p><p>She sighed as his hands ran down her sides and rested on her waist. She could feel his length pressing into her lower back and she turned to face him.</p><p>"This is probably a bad idea." She said again, studying his face.</p><p>"Probably." He agreed. As he leaned down in an attempt to capture her lips, he stopped, his face screwing up in disgust. "Fuck." He said, stepping away from her quickly and nearly tearing down the shower curtain in an attempt to rush from the tub.</p><p>"Harry, what-</p><p>She was cut off by the sound of him retching, the contents splashing into the toilet. She chuckled to herself and peeked her head from the curtain. Maybe it was a good thing, Merlin knows she needed a shag but Harry was probably not the best decision.</p><p>She cut the water off and grabbed her towel off the hook, wrapping it quickly around her frame as she kneeled next to him, pulling his hair back as he continued to empty his stomach into the porcelain.</p><p>When he finished, she handed him a towel and helped him to his feet. "Probably for the better." She chuckled.</p><p>"Fuck, I'm so sorry, Hermione." He said. "I just… I don't know."</p><p>"It's been awhile since you've been this sozzled." She laughed. "You all right?"</p><p>He nodded, reaching up to flush the toilet and rinsing his mouth out with water from the sink. "Can we just go to bed?"</p><p>She nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a sound idea."</p><p>She gripped Harry's elbow, hoisting him to his feet with a grunt and helped him tie his towel around his waist. She walked with him to his room and helped him into bed. By the time she turned the light off, he was snoring lightly and she rolled her eyes, padding back to her own room to slip on her pajamas and climb under the blankets.</p><hr/><p>Hermione groaned as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Her head was pounding and she felt nauseous. She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen where Harry was sat, nursing a cup of coffee and holding his head in his hands, his glasses on the table.</p><p>"I haven't drunk that much in…" He stopped, furrowing his brows together. "I don't think I've ever drank that much."</p><p>Hermione snorted and poured her own cup of coffee, rooting through the bottom cupboard and pulling out an unopened bottle of whiskey. Had they really polished off an entire bottle between the two of them, last night? She shook her head, pouring a some of the whiskey into her coffee. She batted Harry's hands away from his mug and splashed some of the liquid into it.</p><p>He groaned. "No, I don't want that."</p><p>"Best way to cure a hang over is with more booze." Hermione grumbled, sealing the bottle back up and placing it in the cabinet. "Besides, I don't have any Pepper-Up."</p><p>Harry grimaced, sipping at his mug. "Did I vomit last night? My mouth tastes like a rubbish can."</p><p>Hermione chuckled, taking a long sip. "Yeah. I told you not to eat so much of the shrimp with how much you were drinking. I knew it'd make you sick, it always does."</p><p>Harry made a low whining sound. "I took a shower though." He pointed to his hair, which was even more unruly than usual. "Apparently went to bed with a wet head."</p><p>"You did." Hermione nodded. "Got in the shower with me."</p><p>His eyes widened. "Did we-?"</p><p>"No." Hermione said. "Not for lack of trying though. But you went to throw up just as things might have started to heat up and there's little else that kills a mood better than watching someone chuck into the loo."</p><p>"Shit, Hermione. I'm sorry."</p><p>She laughed. "What for?"</p><p>"Well I assume I came onto you! You've lived here three years and we haven't done anything since you've been here. I can only imagine I'm the one that tried-</p><p>She held up a hand to stop him, shaking her head. "It's fine, Harry. Really. Although… Do you remember talking about Ginny last night?"</p><p>He screwed his face up in thought. "Not really, no."</p><p>"You need to talk to her, Harry. You were convinced she might be stepping out on you."</p><p>He paled, his eyes growing almost comically wide. "I told you that?"</p><p>She nodded. "Said you talked to her about meeting with Zabini or something?"</p><p>"Ugh." Harry groaned, shoving his glasses back on his face. "Yeah."</p><p>"Maybe ought to address that sooner rather than later." Hermione said, grimacing as she gulped down more of her coffee. "You want breakfast?"</p><p>He shook his head. "No. I told Isaac I'd take him to look over Greyback's files today. He doesn't have the clearance to look over them."</p><p>"Why would he want to?"</p><p>"He turned his sister, remember?" Harry said. "Wants to make sure there isn't anyway he can come back for her I guess."</p><p>Hermione nodded. "I suppose. It's been almost a year since he was captured though. I can't see him getting a retrial any time soon."</p><p>Harry shrugged. "Crazier things have happened."</p><hr/><p>Hermione found herself in Diagon Alley at a small café on the west end. For a Saturday, there wasn't much traffic, but then again, school was still in session and with the Ministry's gala the night before, she assumed the reporters probably had enough gossip for the weekend.</p><p>She sat at the small table outside the door, picking at a scone and sipping tea. Truthfully, she wasn't very hungry. She had just wanted to get out of the flat and enjoy the sunshine for awhile while she looked through her files. She stared down at Draco Malfoy's folder and sighed, plucking it from the stack and opening it again.</p><p>She had gone through his file more than a dozen times now, searched old copies of The Prophet and even asked around to some of the old Slytherin's that worked at the Ministry. He was elusive, almost never seen by anyone except to occasionally enter his Gringotts vault or go to the apothecary.</p><p>Through further research, she discovered his father's company, Malfoy Enterprises. The company was responsible for curating a large number of rare and expensive potions ingredients from around the world. It had, in recent years, been taken over completely by Draco and rebranded as DM Management and had removed itself from any of the less <em>savory</em> practices of collecting rare ingredients. DMM mostly worked in trading now, still curating more sustainable resources and working to make ingredients more affordable for the "average potioneer". At least, that's what the business model claimed.</p><p><em>Why would a man with more money than the Queen care about affordability of ingredients?</em> She jot the question into her small leather bound notebook and kept skimming through the information she collected.</p><p>As the late spring sun began to beat upon her face, she pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head and finally looked up from her work. She had been sitting at the café nearly three hours and hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings. As she scanned the area, her eyes stopped on a table a few down from hers.</p><p>Sitting at the table, legs crossed at the knee and fingers steepled in front of his shockingly pale face, was Draco Malfoy, himself. She felt uneasy as she realized he was watching her. His eyes trained straight ahead, intense even from the distance between them. She caught his gaze and arched an eyebrow in question.</p><p>Years.</p><p>It had been <em>years</em> since he showed his face around Diagon Alley for little more than bank transactions and now he's suddenly having tea at the same café that she was visiting?</p><p>"<em>You aren't the only one with secrets, Granger." </em>The memory of his words floated through her head, replaying on a loop as she stared at him.</p><p>What was he hiding? Why had he waited so long? Of course, he had said he was waiting for her to take the department, but how could he have known she would? She set her jaw, making a quick decision to talk to him. They were in public now, he didn't have the coverage of the Manor, she wasn't on the clock, she didn't have to be professional and <em>dammit!</em> <em>She wanted answers</em>.</p><p>She gathered her belongings and grabbed her tea, throwing the files onto the table he sat at. She sat in the chair opposite of him and stared at him. He didn't flinch, barely moved a muscle at her joining him.</p><p>"Malfoy." She said.</p><p>"Granger." He gave a very slight nod of his head.</p><p>"Fancy a breakfast in Diagon Alley this morning, did you?" She asked, her tone even.</p><p>"It's nearly one in the afternoon, so no." He responded, the ghost of a smirk pulling his lips to an upward curve. He slowly brought his mug to his lips, taking a sip but keeping his eyes on her.</p><p>"Your face isn't scarred." She said, realizing that while his right eye was still the same milky orb it had been the other times she had visited him, the angry scarring on his face and neck were not visible.</p><p>"That's a rude thing to point out to someone, Granger." He said, his voice low.</p><p>"It isn't rude. You had very obvious scarring at the last two visits and now you don't. It's curious."</p><p>"It's a glamour." He said, placing the mug back on the table. "Much like you used to hide whatever had your face bloodied up at the last meeting."</p><p>She felt her jaw twitch. "Couldn't transfigure the eye, though?"</p><p>"Eyes are far more difficult to get right." He said. "I'm sure you know the risk of transfiguring your eyes. I'd rather not go completely blind."</p><p>She gave a curt nod and took a sip of her tea. "You were watching me. Why?"</p><p>He drew in a deep breath through his nose, slowly releasing it from his mouth as his fingers lightly tapped against the ceramic mug. His eyes finally left her face, landing on the top file of the stack, the file with his name on it. "Doing a bit of extended research, are we?"</p><p>"If you want your appeal to be accepted, I need to have all of the information I can." She said.</p><p>"Obviously." He agreed.</p><p>They sat in a tense silence for quite some time, trading small sips between their mugs and eyeing one another. While she watched him in curiosity, wondering why he was here; His stare made her queasy. Like she was prey waiting to be pounced upon.</p><p>"Why are you in Diagon Alley?" She asked, finally unable to take the pressure of the silence.</p><p>"I had business to attend to."</p><p>She motioned around the area they were sitting. "Here? On the west end? There's hardly anything this side of the Alley."</p><p>"I was in Knockturn Alley. The business I was working with has an exit that puts you out just across the street there…" He pointed to an old business that looked as if it had been shut down for a few decades. "I saw you, so I stopped."</p><p>"Knockturn Alley?" She asked.</p><p>"Not all wizards are bright eyed and bushy tailed firsties anymore, Granger."</p><p>"Are you dabbling in dark arts again?"</p><p>"I never dabbled in dark arts." He said, the intensity returning to his eyes. "I sell potions ingredients. I assume you already knew that." He motioned down to the file that her hand was resting on. "Borgin Junior buys powdered lacewing and Lithops pods directly from me. It's more affordable than going through the apothecary."</p><p>"Lithops Pods are lethal." Hermione said, arching an eyebrow.</p><p>"Lithops Pods in raw form are lethal." He corrected. "Lithops pods when brewed with lacewing, Sarasinula mucous and lavender… amongst a few other things… Create a very powerful sleeping potion that can eliminate pain and be marketed to muggle hospitals as an anesthetic."</p><p>"Borgin is selling anesthetics to muggle hospitals?" She asked, doubt coating her tone.</p><p>"I don't know what Borgin does with his potions." Malfoy said, taking another slow sip from his mug. "I just know what it could be used for, if in the right hands."</p><p>"And in the wrong ones?"</p><p>He smirked. "I'm not a member of the MLE, Granger. It's not my job to investigate why someone is buying my products. Only that they pay for it in full upon purchase."</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why were you watching me?"</p><p>"Why were you researching me?" He countered.</p><p>She blew an angry puff of air through her nose. Clearly, Malfoy was still an arsehole. "I already said why." She snapped.</p><p>He smirked again, clasping his hands and settling them into his lap as he squared his shoulders up. "You're interesting to observe." He said, simply.</p><p>"Interesting to observe." She repeated, saying the words slowly.</p><p>She locked gaze with him again, the same uneasy silence settling over them. What did he mean? How could she possibly be interesting to observe when she had only been drinking tea and picking at a scone? When she was carding through papers? How was that interesting? <em>You aren't the only one with secrets, Granger</em>. The words pulsed through her head again, thundering in her ears as she felt his stare burn holes into her face.</p><p>She allowed her eyes to slide over his form, landing on his chest. There was an ornate locket hanging on a thin chain against his sternum. It was geometrically shaped of a diamond, and she could make out engraved patterns on it that looked like small dragons etched into the metal. It looked hollow and she wondered what was contained inside of it.</p><p>"Your fingers are trembling." He said, his voice smooth and low as he leaned forward in his chair.</p><p>She looked down at her hands, they had indeed begun their incessant shaking. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed in a failed attempt to bring saliva to her tongue. She took a sip of her tea and hardened her face. "They always shake." She whispered. "It doesn't matter."</p><p>"I can smell it on you, you know." He said. "The whiskey on your breath."</p><p>She ran her tongue over the front of her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest. She had brushed her teeth before leaving the flat and hadn't had a drink since. There was <em>no way</em> he could smell anything on her breath, let alone the whiskey she added to her coffee nearly five hours ago. "I don't know what you're talking about." She said, stubbornly.</p><p>"You do." He said. "But you don't have to admit it to me, Granger. Everyone is entitled to their secrets."</p><p><em>Secrets</em>. What was it with Malfoy and <em>secrets</em>?! "You would know about that, would you?" She snapped at him.</p><p>He flashed his teeth. Perfectly straight and pearly white, the incisors just a little more pointed than normal. "It would do you well to remember the lunar cycle when talking to someone like me, Granger." He snarled. "Snapping at a wolf when the moon rises tomorrow might cause you some discomfort."</p><p>"Is that a threat, Malfoy?"</p><p>"A warning." He hissed through clenched teeth. He stood, straightening his blazer and stared down at her for moment. "I will be unavailable the next two days. If my appeal process begins in that time, handle it." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small pouch; from it he pulled a galleon and threw it on the table. "For my tea."</p><p>He turned on his heel and stalked down the cobblestone road, following the west end back into Knockturn Alley and disappearing around the corner. She watched him until he was out of sight, wondering what in the absolute <em>hell</em> had just happened?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter!</p><p>I wanted to let you know, I may be taking a 2 week hiatus from this story. I'm not sure yet though honestly, if it happens, I will update with a chapter and let you know the date of return. This story is a bit more taxing to write. It's far more involved and as the plot has morphed and changed into something a bit different than I had originally planned, I'd like to go back through what I already have written out (the stuff that hasn't yet been published) and rework some of it.</p><p>I promise though, it's for the better!</p><p>If you follow hidden heir/enemies of the heir, beware... I am trying to keep focus on that story, as it is my main WIP. Balancing stories between a social life and mental health can be exhausting, so this one may take the back burner for a could weeks. Again, it all depends on how much I can get done before the next update (next monday). I'll let you all know for sure then!</p><p>Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review!</p><p>xo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Favors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Six</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Favors</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione's fingers tapped against the ceramic of her mug. She looked up at the clock on her wall again, it was almost time for her meeting with Isaac. She had looked through his sister's file and saw she was registered, but had skipped registration for this year. Likely because of the cost.</p>
<p>She had taken it upon herself to dance around that a bit. She was growing bored shuffling paper in this office, she needed to get back to being invested. To working for a cause and she had always thought the laws on werewolves were absolutely barbaric. If she could help even just this one, she would feel satisfied to move forward with investing in the department more.</p>
<p>Her mind floated back to the run in with Malfoy a few days prior. She had been thinking about it on and off since it happened and it was driving her <em>mad</em>. She felt like she couldn't focus on anything else. Why had he sat down and watched her? How long had he been there? Why was he <em>so obsessed</em> with having secrets?</p>
<p>She sighed, feeling the sheen of sweat prickle her forehead as a violent tremble ran through her body. It had been almost two days since she had a drink. She had felt absolutely incensed when Malfoy began to point out her trembling, she was determined to prove him wrong.</p>
<p>As another quake ran through her spine she sighed in irritation. It would do no good for her to be shaking and sweating during her meeting. She needed to at least <em>look</em> like she had her shit together. She yanked open the bottom drawer, rooting for the bottle she knew was shrunken underneath the false boards.</p>
<p>As she tossed the bottle back into the drawer she startled at the knock on her door.</p>
<p>"Miss Granger? There's an Auror here by the name of Isaac Wassman for you?" Anna's voice called.</p>
<p>"Right." Hermione said, taking several gulps down of the whiskey spiked coffee. "Send him in."</p>
<p>She squared her shoulders up and shuffled a few of the papers on her desk into a neat stack, folding her hands in front of her and smiled kindly as Isaac when he entered the room.</p>
<p>She stood, shaking his hand. "Isaac." She said, with a nod.</p>
<p>"Miss Granger. Thanks for meeting with me." He said.</p>
<p>Hermione motioned to the seat in front of the desk. "Please, be seated." She took another sip from the mug and offered him tea or water, which he politely declined. "So, you said your sister-</p>
<p>"Eliza, miss."</p>
<p>"Right, Eliza. You said Eliza is unemployed?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Miss."</p>
<p>"She's also unregistered." Hermione pointed out. "She didn't register this year."</p>
<p>"You see, Miss-</p>
<p>She held up a hand. "Hermione, please."</p>
<p>He gave a small smile and nodded. "Hermione. You see, we didn't have the money. It's a hundred galleons a year to register! I understand the Ministry takes on risk by allowing employment to registered werewolves but-</p>
<p>"No one can afford to register in order to be gainfully employed." Hermione sighed. "Yes, I'm aware. I'm trying to get the yearly registration fee overturned right now." She patted a stack of parchment to her left. "I'm working on a proposal to present soon. Unfortunately, Isaac, when she was unregistered I wouldn't have been able to do much…"</p>
<p>He bowed his head, looking into his lap. "I know." He sighed. "I just… I couldn't afford the extra. I've barely got that much in my savings and on one salary I…" He trailed off. He looked down to his lap, his brows pulled together and a frown carving his features downward.</p>
<p>Hermione chuckled and Isaac looked up to her, his eyes flashing with confusion. "I said there wasn't much I could do <em>when</em> she was unregistered." She emphasized the when.</p>
<p>His brows furrowed together and Hermione handed him an envelope. "I have paid the registration fee in full for your sister. She'll need to sign the documents and return them to me in person. I know the full moon was two days ago, so when she's feeling better. I'd like her here Thursday, if possible."</p>
<p>Isaac's hands were shaking as he took the envelope and a deep breath filled his chest. He blinked several times, his eyes going bright. He cleared his throat. "I… Mi- Hermione… I… I can't repay you." He said, sadly.</p>
<p>She shook her head. "I don't want repayment. I want to get some of these ridiculous laws overturned and the only way to do that is to prove that there are good werewolves, good <em>people</em>, that just suffered a very unfortunate infection. If I can get more people like your sister employed, it will help to shift the odds in the favor of the legislations to pass."</p>
<p>He nodded and she saw him swallow the lump in his throat.</p>
<p>"Does Eliza have access to Wolfsbane for the next cycle?" Hermione asked.</p>
<p>"No." Isaac said, shaking his head. "We can't-</p>
<p>"Afford it outright." Hermione nodded. "Yes, I know. Hardly anyone can. I may have a solution. Because she's unemployed, I can't give her access to the Ministry's Wolfsbane. There is a finite amount, and it's all tracked and distributed through the ministry."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know." Isaac sighed, dejected. "Eliza is good with potions, and I'm fair, but even to get the ingredients to brew it costs almost as much as just buying it outright."</p>
<p>"I'm aware." Hermione said. "I may have an alternative. I'm going to look into another option this week, and I will let Eliza know when she comes in to return those registration forms on Thursday."</p>
<p>Isaac didn't even try to blink back his tears this time, he allowed them to slip past the rims of his eyes and he smiled at her, shaking his head a bit. "I- I can't… I don't know what to say."</p>
<p>"If you're as smart as Harry thinks you are, you'll say nothing." Hermione clipped. "I have to… bend the rules a little to do this. So, I need discretion, Isaac."</p>
<p>"Yes, of course." He said, making a motion toward his mouth as if he were zipping his lips together. "Not a word."</p>
<p>Hermione gave a curt nod. "Tell Eliza to be here Thursday. At any time before four." She stood again, to signal the ending of their meeting, Isaac followed suit and shook her hand again.</p>
<p>"Thank you, M-Hermione. Thank you, so much."</p>
<p>Hermione smiled. "We'll get these laws overturned, Isaac. I just need you all to be patient. I'm working on it."</p>
<p>He smiled at her and left the office.</p>
<p>Hermione sat back down in her chair, taking another swig from her mug and settling into the cushioned seat. For the first time, in a <em>very long </em>time, she felt accomplished. It had been over six months that she had been in this office, six months of cleaning up the mess of the person before her.</p>
<p>She finally was able to organize and <em>do something</em>. It felt good. It felt good to be working toward a goal again, to be <em>helping</em>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione stared at the clock, tapping her quill against her desk and chewing on her bottom lip. Malfoy would have the provisions to give Eliza the wolfsbane she would need. But would he do it? She could owl him and ask?</p>
<p>What if he didn't respond right away? What if she didn't hear from him before her meeting with Eliza on Thursday? A few days after the moon wouldn't disrupt the effects of the wolfsbane too much, but more than that? She wasn't confident that it would provide any use.</p>
<p>There simply wasn't enough research.</p>
<p>She sighed. She needed to go visit him. She needed to go and ask him in person. Explain to him why she needed it. Would he be willing to donate more? He had already supplied an overly generous amount. She would understand if he said no, but she would need to make other arrangements. Perhaps, Harry would pay for the ingredients for her and she could brew it?</p>
<p>But brewing it would take a couple days.</p>
<p>No, she had to go to Malfoy Manor. She had to visit him <em>today</em>. If she was going to brew it herself, she would need three days.</p>
<p>She sighed, straightening the files on her desk and standing. She rolled her neck on her shoulders and pulled her cloak on, slipping her wand in the pocket and grabbing her bag. Mr. Bringham would be irritated with her for leaving early, she was sure. But then again, the great buffoon was irritated with her all the time.</p>
<p>She left her office, alerting Anna that she would be gone the rest of the day and walked down the hall to Mr. Bringham's office. His assistant, Joanie, was hunched over a small stack of parchment, shaking her head as she crumpled up a few scraps and tossed them into the rubbish bin by her desk.</p>
<p>"Hi Joanie." Hermione said. "Is Mr. Bringham in?"</p>
<p>Joanie looked up, her blonde hair falling against her shoulders as she looked over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses. "He is." She said. "Leaving early?"</p>
<p>Hermione nodded. "I need to visit a client, it could take the rest of the afternoon."</p>
<p>"Client?"</p>
<p>"One of the unregistered werewolves." Hermione elaborated. "I'm working on an appeal for him and I have a few things that are a bit too <em>sensitive</em> to discuss via owl."</p>
<p>Joanie gave a slight shake of her head, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Mr. Bringham is going to be furious, Ms. Granger."</p>
<p>"He's always furious." Hermione grumbled. "Could you just let him know?"</p>
<p>Joanie sighed. "I suppose I can. Be prepared for him to be in your office tomorrow morning."</p>
<p>"Thanks, Joanie."</p>
<p>Joanie pursed her lips and looked back down at her parchment.</p>
<p><em>Miserable bat</em>. Hermione thought, as she turned on her heel and sped toward the lifts.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione knocked at the door of Malfoy Manor, her heart pounding in her chest.</p>
<p>She really hoped this would work. She knew Malfoy wanted to register, for what reason she still hadn't quite figured out. He liked to be <em>annoyingly</em> vague in his answers, and frankly, it gave her a headache to think it over too much.</p>
<p>But then again, she always had a headache.</p>
<p>She sighed as she knocked again. She really should have owled first but she needed an immediate response. What if he wasn't here? He did run a rather large business, he could be out and-</p>
<p>"Granger." Malfoy's voice came as the door opened. He was disheveled. His hair tossed about his head and his shirt half tucked into the front of his trousers. Had he been sleeping?</p>
<p>"Malfoy." She nodded curtly. Her eyes flickering around nervously. "I erm… I'm sorry to drop in on you-</p>
<p>"I specifically recall asking for twenty-four-hours' notice, should you be making a visit." He said, his tone low and shaking with fury. "It's well within my rights to receive that courtesy."</p>
<p>"I-I'm sorry. You're right." She said, pulling her lip between her teeth. She would have to play nice and ignore the fact that he was being rude. She had a favor to ask of him, and offending him wouldn't help her cause.</p>
<p>"What do you want?" He asked, still blocking the doorway.</p>
<p>"Could we possibly move to the sitting room? I have a favor to ask of you."</p>
<p>His eyes narrowed once more, scanning her over. He looked like he was studying her. His intense glare eating through her calm demeanor and making her skin crawl. He stared at her for a long time, it was becoming uncomfortable.</p>
<p>"Malfoy?" She said, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts had him gazing so intently at her.</p>
<p>He ran his tongue over his teeth and turned his back, walking toward the sitting room. She hesitated a moment before following him. They entered the sitting room and he took the sofa facing the large fish tank. He seemed to almost visibly relax as he looked at it. He shifted a bit, pulling his ankle up to rest on his knee, his hands clasped in his lap.</p>
<p>"What do you want?" He repeated when she sat.</p>
<p>She cleared her throat and began twisting at the hem of her skirt. She was nervous, and she couldn't figure out why. Perhaps, it wasn't that she was asking him to provide an expensive potion. Obviously, the expense didn't matter to him. It was that it was <em>personal</em> for her. It would be an act of personal service, and she wasn't sure how she felt about opening up that door with <em>Malfoy</em>, of all people.</p>
<p>She sighed. <em>Better just get on with it.</em></p>
<p>"I have a werewolf that came to me… Well, her brother did. They can't afford the fee to register which means she can't be on the ministry list of Wolfsbane recipients. I paid her registration for her. But unless she's gainfully employed for a month, she still won't qualify. Which she can't do if she isn't taking the potion."</p>
<p>"You're rambling. Get to the point." He said, his tone clipped.</p>
<p>She huffed. <em>God he's irritating.</em> "I know you've supplied so much wolfsbane for the Ministry, already. And I know that is of a large cost to you. I'm asking you to please, for one month, donate one more supply to me."</p>
<p>He folded his arms over his chest and settled back into the cushions. "So, you can give this girl wolfsbane without following Ministry protocol." It wasn't a question.</p>
<p>She nodded. "I realize the potion is expensive, but I thought… Maybe… Well, with your company having a say in pricing of ingredients, you might be able to even just sell me those ingredients at cost and I can brew it myself and-</p>
<p>She was cut off when he stood abruptly and exited the room.</p>
<p>"Malfoy?" She called, irritated that he had just left her sitting there. He could have at least said no! She clenched her jaw and pinched the bridge of her nose. She should have just owled him. As she moved to get up, he returned to the room, three small bottles in his hands.</p>
<p>He handed her the bottles. "This will be enough to last the month."</p>
<p>Her eyes widened a bit as she took the bottles from him. "Malfoy… I-I don't expect you to-</p>
<p>"This is why you came here, is it not?" He interrupted, settling back into the cushions and crossing his legs at the knee.</p>
<p>She nodded. "Yes, it is."</p>
<p>"Then take it." He said.</p>
<p>She shifted and looked down at the bottles and gave a small nod, putting them into the bag she had sitting next to her ankle on the floor. She sat upright again and stared at him for a long moment. Something about him was making her uneasy. She didn't like the twist in her gut as his eyes roamed her, studying her. She felt her fingers twitch and sweat prickle the back of her neck. <em>God, I could use a drink.</em></p>
<p>She watched him, trying to ignore the ache in her muscles as she breathed. She narrowed her eyes a fraction as his nostrils flared, taking in a deep breath. His head rolled on his shoulders and she could hear his neck click. She felt deeply uncomfortable, but she couldn't move. She felt rooted to the armchair.</p>
<p>She noticed the slight twitch of his jaw as the muscles in his throat tensed.</p>
<p>"Is there anything else?" He asked, his tone sounding urgent and angry.</p>
<p>"No, I-I suppose not. I'm still waiting to hear on your appeal."</p>
<p>He nodded and stood. "If you don't mind, Granger." He motioned to the doorway. "I do not like unannounced guests in my home. Next time, be sure to owl."</p>
<p>She stood, her eyes narrowing as she looked him over. "I apologize, Malfoy." She said through clenched teeth. "Thank you for seeing me."</p>
<p>He walked with her to the foyer, his hand lingering in the air a few inches from the small of her back as if ushering her out of the house. As they turned through the doorway, he wavered. Stumbling a bit to the side and his breaths hitched into a pant.</p>
<p>"Malfoy, are you quite all right?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.</p>
<p>He swallowed, his voice coming out thick. "Owl next time, Granger."</p>
<p>She nodded and turned. As she did, Malfoy fell forward, his face screwed up in a pained expression, a low snarl vibrating the back of his throat. Hermione let out a yelp, her knees nearly buckled under the weight of him, his eyes fluttering shut and his body slumping toward the ground.</p>
<p>"Shit." She mumbled, hoping the dropping of her bag didn't damage the potions within. She carefully laid his weight to the ground and pulled her wand from her bag, casting a featherlight charm over him and dragging him back into the sitting room. She levitated him to the couch and stared down at him.</p>
<p><em>Now what? </em>She thought. She couldn't very well leave him here. It was very clear he lived alone and with the Full Moon being only days ago, she had no idea what type of injuries he may have sustained. He could have internal bleeding or broken bones or a slew of other problems that were common after transformations. She propped his head on the pillow and knelt beside him.</p>
<p>Was that why he was acting so peculiar? Was he injured?</p>
<p>"Malfoy?" She said, lightly tapping his face. "Malfoy, wake up."</p>
<p>He didn't stir.</p>
<p>She sighed. <em>Shit</em>. What was she supposed to do? She needed to get to the flat. She had stopped in Harry's office before leaving the Ministry to let him know she would be going to Malfoy's and to tell him of her plan. She knew if she was much longer, he'd begin to worry. She had told him that she should still be home on time. But then again, it was Monday, which meant Harry would stop at the market for groceries on his way home. That would buy her a little time.</p>
<p>She shook his shoulder. "Malfoy!" She said, a bit louder this time. "Malfoy, wake up!"</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>She pulled out her wand and pointed it to his chest. "<em>Rennervate!</em>" She whispered. She looked at him, his eyelids fluttering a bit as his eyes moved beneath them.</p>
<p>She pulled his scarred eyelid up, looking at the cloudy eye beneath it. When it closed, she moved to the other eye and gasped.</p>
<p>It was clouded.</p>
<p>No silvery-blue iris that was so characteristic of the Malfoy men. But another milky, clouded eye. She moved her hand from his face and got to her feet, stepping back a few paces. She stared down at him. Maybe she should call Harry. If something was seriously wrong, he could get someone here from St. Mungo's or-</p>
<p>He sat up, his eyes snapping open and he lunged forward, shoving her to the ground and pinning her shoulders beneath him. Milky eyes staring down at her. He bared his teeth and leaned forward, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply.</p>
<p>"How long it has been since I have had control." He growled, his voice gravelly and deep.</p>
<p>She took slow, steady breaths. Panic blooming in her chest. Malfoy was not in control of himself right now, that much was clear. She had known this could happen, remembered seeing it first hand with Greyback and his pack. Strong wolves were able to overtake the mind of the host if they weren't ingesting wolfsbane.</p>
<p>But Malfoy was, wasn't he? Why else would he have a supply of it? Why else would he understand how essential it was that the ministry have access to it for werewolves who couldn't afford it?</p>
<p>She brought her eyes up to meet the clouded pair staring at her, inches from her face. "Ep-Epsichlys, right? That's what he called you before."</p>
<p>"That is my name, he did not give it to me. I was born Epsichlys."</p>
<p>"Why are you here now?" She asked, her chest aching under the weight of him.</p>
<p>"<em>Starving</em>." He growled.</p>
<p>Her eyes flitted over his face. It was twisted in rage, his teeth still baring beneath split lips. He took another deep breath, inhaling her again. He groaned, his eyes blinking rapidly as they rolled back into his head. When he opened his eyes, she saw silver flash over the left eye before the cloudiness took it back over.</p>
<p>"<em>Starving</em>." He growled again.</p>
<p>His body was rigid atop hers, his hands bruising as they gripped her shoulders, keeping her pinned to the hard wood floors beneath her. She felt his breath on her neck and closed her eyes.</p>
<p>"Please, Epsichlys." She whispered. "I know you're… You're hungry. Let me help."</p>
<p>Help. <em>Help?! Let me fucking help?! Hermione you stupid, stupid—"</em>Argh!" She yelled out as she felt his teeth sink into the crook of her neck, the flat of his tongue tracing the wound. She arched her back from the ground, thrashing to push him off, her shoulders still pinned in place. Her hips crashed up, smacking against him as she writhed beneath him.</p>
<p>He pulled his head back and looked at her, blood around his mouth, staining his white teeth as he smiled and licked his lips. His grip loosened momentarily on her shoulders as he reveled in, what she thought may be blood lust, and she pulled her arm free, sinking her nails into his face and pushing his nose upward. She felt it break beneath her palm and he howled in pain, rolling off her.</p>
<p>She clambered to her feet, doing a silent <em>accio</em> to retrieve her wand and pointed at him. A low grumbling sound came from his chest. <em>Laughter</em>.</p>
<p>"<em>Incarcerous!"</em> She said, watching the thin ropes wrap around the ankles and wrists of Malfoy, binding him in place.</p>
<p>She gripped her wand tightly, pacing back and forth. "Fuck!" She said, touching the spot on her neck that had been bitten. She stared at the blood on her fingers for a moment before pacing again. "Fuck! What the <em>fuck</em>, Malfoy?!" She yelled angrily at him.</p>
<p>"Epsichlys is not him. He is not here." The low voice growled from Malfoy's mouth.</p>
<p><em>Okay. Think. Breathe, Hermione, and think.</em> She took a slow breath and closed her eyes for moment, trying to right her mind and figure out what to do. It certainly wasn't the first time she had been in a terrifying situation. She had been an Auror for seven years, after all. But rarely in those years was she by herself, and never in those years had she been <em>bitten</em> by a fucking Werewolf! It was after the moon, so she shouldn't have any worry about transformation. But… But what if it <em>did</em> change her? He clearly wasn't in his own mind. It was obviously the wolf. Would she be like Bill? Scarred forever and eating rare steaks and growling at anyone who smelled odd to her?</p>
<p><em>Shit. Get it together.</em> She berated herself.</p>
<p>Okay. How to get Malfoy back to being, well, Malfoy. That was the first step, wasn't it? If the wolf was taking over, she would have no hope to figuring out <em>why</em> while the wolf was still present. She sighed angrily, really wishing she would have done a little more research on the theories of Lycanthropic manifestation being a completely separate entity from the host. Because it was obvious now, that was the case here.</p>
<p>She briefly wondered if Lupin ever experienced this.</p>
<p>Wolfsbane. She had Wolfsbane. A potion designed to keep the host in control over the course of transformation. Maybe it would work now? It had to.</p>
<p>She rooted through her bag and pulled out one of the bottles. He had given her three and said it was enough for a month, so she assumed there was ten doses per bottle. <em>Fuck it</em>. She thought. She didn't have time to measure it out. If she <em>had</em> been infected, she had minutes before the venom would begin to take over.</p>
<p>She knelt next to him, putting him in a full body bind and pried his mouth open with her fingers. She could see the look of horror in the milky eyes as she dumped the liquid into his blood caked mouth and forced his jaw shut, plugging his nose and massaging his throat to force a swallow.</p>
<p>She watched, still on all fours looking over him. Waiting for anything to happen. Some kind of- <em>there</em>. His eyes began blinking rapidly and his body went limp under the body binding curse. When his eyes opened again, the left was silver.</p>
<p>She cancelled the body bind and stood up. "Malfoy?" She asked.</p>
<p>He nodded. "Unbind me." He said, his tone urgent. "Unbind me now, please."</p>
<p>Her eyes flitted over his face, still unsure that it was her best option. She watched his body convulse a bit and understood, cancelling the <em>incarcerous</em> and watching as he rolled onto his knees and began retching.</p>
<p>When he finished vomiting, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and withdrew his wand from his trousers. Muttering a cleaning spell, he stood up and looked at her. A terrified look of shock and anger on his face.</p>
<p>"What. The. Fuck. Malfoy?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone! I will be going on hiatus for a couple weeks to get ahead on my writing. Please come join me over at my FB group: Mimifreed Writing. I will be posting sneak peaks of upcoming chapters as well as chapter aesthetics and other fun things there!<br/>Just search Mimifreed Writing<br/>:)<br/>See you all in a couple weeks!<br/>-Mimi</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Seven.</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Answers</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione's head was spinning. What had just happened? What the <em>fuck</em> had just happened? She brought her hand up to her neck and touched the bite mark, pulling it away and seeing the blood on her fingers. Her stomach churned.</p>
<p>"Am I going to turn?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage as she tried to keep it even.</p>
<p>"I- I don't know." Malfoy said, taking a few strides away from her and jamming his fingers through his hair.</p>
<p>"You don't know?" She asked. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Her already shaking hands were violently trembling with her ire as she stared at him incredulously. Her breaths came in heavy pants as she crossed the room, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him to face her. "I don't know is <em>not </em>the right answer here, Malfoy! What the hell is going to happen to me?!"</p>
<p>He glared at her hand on his shoulder before his eyes returned to her face. "I don't know, Granger! He's never come out like that before!"</p>
<p>"He said he was starving!" She said. "Why the hell is he starving?!"</p>
<p>"Fuck," Malfoy said, yanking his arm from her grip and pacing around the floor. "This is bad. This is really fucking bad."</p>
<p>"I would say, so!" Hermione nearly screamed. "I would <em>absolutely</em> agree that this is pretty fucking bad, Malfoy!"</p>
<p>"Not you!" He said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Me!"</p>
<p>"You?!" Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she shrieked at him. "You?! Are you <em>kidding</em> me?! You fucking <em>bit</em> me! You absolute <em>arsehole</em>! What if I turn? What if I-</p>
<p>"Shut up!" He yelled over her. "Shut up! Let me think. Let me fucking think!"</p>
<p>He was shoving his hand through his hair every other step he took. She was sure he'd rip it from his scalp if he continued. <em>Good.</em></p>
<p>He crossed the room and leaned in close to her, she quickly backed away from him. Her heart was beating wildly against her sternum and she could feel the hair on her neck standing at attention.</p>
<p>"Get away from me!" She said. "Don't come near me!"</p>
<p>"I need to see the bite, you stupid witch!" He said. "You're worried about turning! Let me look at it and make sure I didn't infect you!"</p>
<p>She blew an angry huff from her nose and gave a sharp nod. "Fine," She said. She clenched her jaw as he came near her, slowly lowering his head toward her neck.</p>
<p>"Can I touch it?" He asked, his voice a whisper.</p>
<p>"If you must."</p>
<p>He glared at her momentarily before reaching out and running his fingers across the wound. He pulled his hand back and looked at her. "I'm going to taste it," He said.</p>
<p>"Excuse me? You're going to what?"</p>
<p>He huffed. "I need to taste it, Granger. To see if there's any venom in your blood. I can smell it but I can taste it far more accurately. If there's even a drop of the venom in your blood, you'll be turning the next moon."</p>
<p>She felt the muscle in her jaw twitch from the force of her clenched teeth. "Fine."</p>
<p>He pressed his fingers to his lips and darted his tongue out, collecting the crimson off the tips of his fingers. She saw his jaw move, as if he was rolling the taste around in his mouth. She felt her stomach churn again. She stared at him, trying to read his face, but it was blank. His eyes closed momentarily and he took a deep breath through his nose.</p>
<p>"There's no venom in your blood. I'll get you some dittany to help heal it up," He said.</p>
<p>She nodded. Her breath finally levelling with a bit of relief. He sped from the room and she pressed her finger tips to the wound again, wincing at the pain that shot through it. Now that the adrenaline of the situation was beginning to wear off, she realized the bite <em>hurt</em>.</p>
<p>Before she could even process what to do next, Malfoy had returned. He was holding a small pear-shaped vial, a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey, and another small bottle of Wolfsbane.</p>
<p>He handed her the Wolfsbane. "So you have a month's worth, still." He said, setting the Ogden's on the table and pulling the stopper off the vial of dittany.</p>
<p>"No," She said. She put her hand up to stop him and then pointed at the bottle of Ogden's. "I want a drink first. This bite hurts and that will take the edge off."</p>
<p>He stared at her for a few seconds before nodding and conjuring two glasses. He poured a three-finger in each and she raised an eyebrow at him.</p>
<p>"Oh no, fill that glass Malfoy." She said. He snorted and filled it to the brim, handing it over to her. She swallowed it down in three gulps and held it out to him. "Another."</p>
<p>"Another?" He asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "Granger, this is a vintage year-</p>
<p>"I don't give a <em>shit</em> if Merlin himself made that bottle. I want another one."</p>
<p>He pursed his lips but poured the glass to the brim once more. This time she drank half before perching on the edge of the arm chair. The familiar, pleasant heat of the whiskey flushing against her cheeks.</p>
<p>"All right," She said. "Do it."</p>
<p>He knocked back the rest of his glass and set it on the side table. He bent slightly over her, the dropper lined over the wound. She felt her skin sizzle as soon as the dittany hit it. She took in a quick breath between her teeth, groaning a bit as he dropped more of the liquid into the bite.</p>
<p>"<em>Godric,</em> that stings." She said, the words coming out in a breathy whine. She took another sip of the whiskey and then took a deep breath through her nose.</p>
<p>"I know," He said. His voice was softer than she had ever heard it before. "I know it hurts, I'm sorry."</p>
<p>She turned her head, looking up at him. His face was hovering inches from hers, his eyes locked on the wound on her neck.</p>
<p>"You're sorry?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," He said. "Do you think I want to bite you?"</p>
<p>"I don't know," She said. "You seemed like you <em>really</em> wanted to do it, you know, <em>when you did it</em>."</p>
<p>"Granger, I…" He trailed off, applying a few more drops of the dittany to her neck.</p>
<p>"You what?" She said. Her chest jerked as a mirthless laugh pushed from her lips. "You didn't mean to?"</p>
<p>"Of course, I didn't mean to!" He snapped, putting the top back onto the bottle and reaching in his pocket. He pulled out a small tin and opened it. He dipped his fingers into the yellow ointment and worked it onto her neck. "If I had been in control, you would not have been bitten."</p>
<p>"And why weren't you in control, Malfoy?" She asked. "What the hell was that about?!"</p>
<p>He screwed the top of the tin back on and handed it to her. "You'll need to put this on it every day until it heals. It shouldn't scar if you do."</p>
<p>"Don't avoid the question." She said, taking the tin from him and bending to put it in her bag. "Why weren't you in control?"</p>
<p>He looked down at her a few moments before finally moving away from her and sitting on the edge of the sofa. He leaned forward, grabbing the bottle of Ogden's and pouring himself another drink. He held it out to her, his eyebrow raised in question. She knocked back the last of her glass and leaned forward so he could fill it for the third time.</p>
<p>"I honestly don't know what happened." He said. "I… I could <em>smell</em> you more, today."</p>
<p>"Because of the moon just passing?" She asked, looking at him over the rim of the glass.</p>
<p>He shrugged, taking a swig from the glass and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I don't know. It's never happened like that before. I've never lost control like that. At least, not out of cycle."</p>
<p>"You've lost control <em>during</em> the moon?" She asked, her heart started racing again. "Who did you bite?"</p>
<p>He shook his head. "You aren't… You're focused on the wrong part!"</p>
<p>"No, I don't think I am! Who did you turn?!"</p>
<p>"I didn't <em>turn </em>anyone!" He said. "What made you think to use the Wolfsbane?"</p>
<p>She stared at him in disbelief. He obviously wasn't going to answer her question fully. But he clearly had hurt someone. Maybe he didn't turn them. Just injured them? <em>Maybe he killed them?</em> She felt a small shiver ride up her spine at the thought. This was turning much darker than she could have ever imagined it being.</p>
<p>"I'm not sure," She finally answered. "I had the thought that if you weren't in control, that Wolfsbane sole purpose is to give you control. I put two and two together and forced it down your throat."</p>
<p>He nodded slowly, taking another sip from his glass. "Thank you," He whispered.</p>
<p>"You're welcome." She said.</p>
<p>They sat in silence for a long time. He seemed just as lost in thought as she was. The wolf kept referring to himself by name, kept insisting that Malfoy had no control over him or what he did. And his eyes… <em>Both</em> his eyes were that same, clouded white. Was the wolf <em>always</em> present, to some degree? Always just behind a thin veil, staring out of the world through Malfoy's mind and watching until he can have a free moment to take over?</p>
<p>"He said he was starving," She finally said, when her glass was emptied again. She leaned forward, setting it onto the table that was between them and leaned back into her chair. "Why is your wolf starving?"</p>
<p>"Because I don't let him feed." He sighed.</p>
<p>She wasn't sure what answer she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. "You don't let him feed." She repeated.</p>
<p>"It's complicated, Granger."</p>
<p>"Lucky for you, I'm rather clever." She said.</p>
<p>He settled his elbows onto his knees, the glass of Ogden's hovering in his fingers between them. He sighed, blowing out a long breath. He twisted his mouth to the side and looked as if he were thinking. Finally, he knocked back the last of the drink and set his glass down on the table with more force than necessary. He stood and stuffed a hand into his pocket, the other carding through his hair.</p>
<p>"Yeah. All right. Fine," He said. "Come on."</p>
<p>"Where?"</p>
<p>"Just shut up and follow me, yeah?" He said.</p>
<p>She clenched her jaw again and stood. She was sure her teeth would crack if she kept her jaw clenched with this much force much longer. But if she wanted answers, she had to bite her tongue. She followed him out of the sitting room and up the enormous staircase. They walked down a long hall and he pushed open the heavy door at the end of it.</p>
<p>Inside, was an enormous library. Shelves lined every inch of the walls, every single one positively full with thousands of books. There were several arm chairs and lounges, all plush and comfortable looking, in different parts of the room.</p>
<p>"Oh my-</p>
<p>"This isn't where we're going," He said. "I know the library would be enough to make you moan, but try to keep your knickers dry, would you?"</p>
<p>She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. "Fuck you, Malfoy."</p>
<p>He chuckled and continued walking through the room. They passed several shelves and nooks, all looked inviting and she wondered if he would let her borrow a few volumes. He had to have every book in Wizarding history in this library. It was larger than the one at Hogwarts had been.</p>
<p>When they reached the far east end, they stopped before two large book shelves. After a few moments, the shelves shifted aside to reveal a door. She wondered why there would be a hidden room in the back of the library. What could he possibly be hiding back here that he would need to charm it to remain hidden in his own home?</p>
<p>Malfoy pointed his wand at the door and she heard the locks clicking. He then pressed his palm against the front of it, holding it there for a few seconds. It reminded her of the old vaults at Gringotts and she felt a strange, nostalgic pang ripple through her chest. Before she could think on it, the door opened and Malfoy slipped inside.</p>
<p>"Are you coming?" He asked.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes and stepped through the doorway. Inside, was a very narrow staircase that spiraled upward. She walked the stairs behind Malfoy, wondering where in the <em>hell</em> he was taking her and why would he need this level of secrecy inside his own home? They reached the top and it opened into a large room.</p>
<p>It was an open space, with vaulted ceilings and skylights that brought the rays of the setting sun into the room. There were no windows on the walls, but they were lined with shelves full of vials and bins. A large wardrobe turned cabinet was on the north wall. It was open and filled with dozens of small drawers, all labeled with different ingredients. There were three long tables that sat parallel to one another in the center of the room. Cauldrons in various stages bubbled and smoked upon the tables.</p>
<p>"A potions lab?" She asked, looking around the room. "Why have you got a potions lab hidden in your library?"</p>
<p>"It's not the <em>lab</em> that's being hidden," He said. "It's this."</p>
<p>He held up his hand, motioning to the center table. There were three cauldrons on it, bubbling away.</p>
<p>"And this is…?"</p>
<p>"A cure."</p>
<p>She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at him, "A cure… For, what, exactly?"</p>
<p>"Brightest witch of our age are you?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"</p>
<p>She ran her tongue over the front of her teeth and folded her arms over her chest, "How about I remind you that you just fucking <em>bit</em> me and you shut up and get to the point here?"</p>
<p>She saw his jaw twitch as his glare turned cold, "It's a cure for Lycanthropy, Granger."</p>
<p>"A cure for…" She trailed off, her mind working hard to put the pieces together. They just didn't fit and suddenly, she felt the laughter bubble in her chest. A <em>cure</em>?! She could tell he was agitated as her laughter filled the quiet of the room, but she couldn't help it. It was <em>ridiculous</em>.</p>
<p>"Why are you laughing?" He asked, his tone cold as ice.</p>
<p>"Because," She said, wiping a stray tear from the lashes of her left eye. "It's ridiculous! Malfoy, you can't <em>cure</em> Lycanthropy!"</p>
<p>"Maybe <em>you</em> can't," He said, squaring his shoulders and crossing the room. "But I've been working on this potion for almost seven years. It's nearly there."</p>
<p>"If that were true, I highly doubt I would have just been <em>attacked</em> by your wolf who happened to overtake your mind outside of his lunar cycle," She stated, matter-of-factly. "There is no cure."</p>
<p>"Lycanthropy is an infection, Granger. And like any other infection, it can be cured."</p>
<p>"Not every infection can be cured," She countered. "Muggles have a slew of them that are incurable."</p>
<p>"Muggles don't have magic," He said. "I do."</p>
<p>"You believe you could cure AIDS with magic? Or- or Muscular Dystrophy? Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis?"</p>
<p>"I don't know what any of those are," He said. "And probably because witches and wizards don't contract them, and if they do, we <em>cure</em> them. It isn't unheard of."</p>
<p>"You aren't a Healer, Malfoy."</p>
<p>"No, I'm not," He agreed. "But I am an expert potioneer. Who happens to run a very successful company that gives me access to rare ingredients from all over the world. Or have you forgotten your research already?"</p>
<p>Hermione glared at him before looking back to the cauldron on the table. Could he really have figured out a cure for Lycanthropy? She remembered reading years ago about wizards who had tried to cure it, that was, after all, how Wolfsbane came about. At the time, it had been revolutionary, a treatment to help Werewolves be in control of their mind during the transformative cycle? Unheard of. But to <em>cure</em> it completely? To reverse it?</p>
<p>If he were successful, Malfoy would go in every history book as the most praised potioneer of all time. If he could create that type of cure, who was to say he couldn't cure other afflictions? Vampirism or even squibs? He could be on the cusp of something huge, something <em>monumental</em>.</p>
<p>"How does it work?" She asked, dropping her arms to the sides and taking a few steps closer to the cauldron. She peered in and looked down to the bubbling, black potion.</p>
<p>"There's the swot," Malfoy said, stepping closer to the table.</p>
<p>She shot him a look before returning her attention to the cauldron.</p>
<p>"It started as a Wolfsbane," He began. "I wanted to see if I could alter the strength. If I could make it stronger, it could be taken once a month instead of daily. Which would cut costs exponentially for the consumer-</p>
<p>"Which reminds me," Hermione interrupted. "Why do you care about the cost? Why switch your entire company around to make things more cost effective for the public?"</p>
<p>He smirked, "The Ministry would love to have everyone believe that ingredients are simply <em>just</em> that expensive and not because they've monopolized them. On top of that, the Ministry wants control over the Werewolves. If there is a potion that can cure it, or cause them to be less violent, the Ministry will do everything they can to keep it out of the public's hands."</p>
<p>"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Why would they? What's the point in keeping werewolves?"</p>
<p>"Control," He answered as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Control, Granger. You can't honestly tell me that you believe the Ministry isn't corrupt?"</p>
<p>"Kingsley wouldn't-</p>
<p>"Kingsley Shacklebolt is a moron," He spat. "He is the face of the Ministry for the witches and wizards. A beacon of better times. But he is not the one in charge, he is not the one who calls the shots. He may have power over passing laws and diplomatic government standpoints, but he has no power over the people. Over the darker wizards who are trying to infiltrate and have been for years. You think locking up Greyback was the end of it?" He scoffed, "That was the beginning."</p>
<p>"What are you on about?" She asked.</p>
<p>He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, leaning against the table behind him and crossing his ankles. "There's a reason Greyback went rogue after your precious Potter defeated Voldemort. You went to his dens, you saw the kinds of things he was doing."</p>
<p>Hermione shuddered, remembering a few years prior. The Werewolf dens that were discovered, filled with bitten and half dead children ranging from the age of six to fifteen. Adult Werewolves feeding on the bodies of the ones who didn't survive the transformation. The violence that covered the muggle towns nearby as their children were captured.</p>
<p>It was horrific.</p>
<p>"He was building an army," Hermione whispered. "He was turning children-</p>
<p>"So that he could groom them in his fucked up image, yeah."</p>
<p>"But <em>why</em>?"</p>
<p>"Imagine, if you will, a life where you are considered the lowest of the low. You can't even try to help yourself without the Ministry dictating it. You fought for the losing side, and your Dark Lord- who promised you power, used you as nothing more than a show dog poodle. He's angry. He wanted power that he was denied, so he began building an army."</p>
<p>"To do what?"</p>
<p>"To take over," He said.</p>
<p>It slowly began clicking into place. The years of being an Auror, chasing rogue Werewolves and freeing dens of children. The control Greyback wanted over Malfoy. The ever rising prices of Wolfsbane ingredients, the constant overturn of her position in the Department of Magical Creatures…</p>
<p>"He's got Bringham in his pocket, doesn't he?" Hermione said.</p>
<p>"That's my assumption," Malfoy said, bobbing his head in a few small nods.</p>
<p>"How did you know I would take office?" She asked. "You said you were waiting to register and that me taking office was the reason you finally did. But my taking over of the registration for magical creatures wasn't advertised. It was a quiet move, within the Ministry."</p>
<p>She watched him as his hand moved up to the locket dangling against his chest. He twisted it around, absentmindedly, as a slow smirk pulled across his face. "If you think your demotion happened on accident, you are sorely mistaken, Granger."</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione pushed open the door to the flat she shared with Harry and set her bag and wand on the small table by the door. She opened the closet, kicking her shoes off and nearly jumped when Harry entered the room.</p>
<p>"Where have you been? I thought you said the meeting with Malfoy-</p>
<p>"I know," She said. "I know. Just… We need to talk, Harry."</p>
<p>He brought a hand up to his face, stroking his beard a few times. A tick he had when he was nervous. He stepped over to the sofa and took a seat, looking at her expectantly.</p>
<p>"Well?"</p>
<p>She sat next to him and drew in a deep breath, "I need you to gain me clearance to visit Greyback in Azkaban."</p>
<p>Harry choked, sputtering hard as he beat his fist against his chest. "<em>What</em>?!"</p>
<p>"I need to talk to him," she said.</p>
<p>"What happened at Malfoy's?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing at her in suspicion as she shifted in his seat.</p>
<p>"Better open a bottle of wine," she said. "It's a long story."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please join me at my Facebook group: Mimifreed Writing</p>
<p>I'm sorry to say that this story will be taking the back burner a bit. I will be going to a sporadic update schedule for this. Honestly, my heart just isn't in this story and I took a lot of time on hiatus to think and figure out what I wanted to do with it. I don't want to abandon it... IT WILL NOT BE ABANDONED. I'm just not going to have a regular update schedule for it right now. I will soon be working with an alpha to get it pieced back together and to write the rest of it, but until that happens, I apologize.<br/>All further updates on this story as well as some of my other works and new works are on my FB group, as well as sneak previews of other chapters, mood boards for chapters and other manips. I hope you join me there! </p>
<p>I feel awful for leaving on hiatus and coming back with this message. But I can't write something my head isn't in. I feel like with each chapter, I can tell that I was losing interest, and I don't want you all to feel that as well.<br/>again, this story is not going to be abandoned. It is simply going to be sporadically updated instead of the schedule I had before. If you like the story, I suggest you follow so you don't miss the update, or join the FB group, where I will post the updates and schedule!</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Eight.</strong>
</p>
<p>Missing</p>
<hr/>
<p>Harry shoved a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping forward as he blew out a long breath. His eyes were wide behind his round frames and the slender, tattooed fingers of his left hand drummed the table.</p>
<p>"That's a lot," He said. He brought the glass of wine to his lips and swallowed down the rest of the burgundy liquid before placing the glass back down to the table and shaking his head. "Hermione, these accusations…"</p>
<p>"I know," She said. "I know what it sounds like. But Harry, you can't honestly tell me it doesn't make sense. At least in some form?"</p>
<p>He thought for a moment, bringing his hand down from his hair and brushing through the coarse hair on his chin instead. "When we finally captured Greyabck, he went relatively easy. I know we both thought that was true. Do you think it's because he already had his plans laid?"</p>
<p>"It would seem that way. And with the information Malfoy gave me about the way transformations work… If it's only an alpha that can turn someone, it would make sense as to why he was after Malfoy. He needs another alpha to continue turning people."</p>
<p>"You said Malfoy hasn't though, right? He hasn't turned anyone?"</p>
<p>"No," She said. "He made mention of losing control, but didn't elaborate. I asked him who he turned and he said he didn't turn anyone. I'm choosing to ignore the more sinister implications there."</p>
<p>Harry gave a slow nod, "And you think Bringham is involved?"</p>
<p>"I do," She sighed. "I'm not sure how, yet. But my best guess is he's purposefully rejecting any registration request from beasts that could be considered more powerful than others. Ones, like Malfoy, that come from money or have connections. They want them to be without the Wolfsbane. To become violent and lose control, to start turning more people. Harry, there's one more thing I need from you."</p>
<p>He raised an eyebrow in question, "What's that?"</p>
<p>"I need the reports from my arrest," She said. "I need to go over them."</p>
<p>"They're sealed, Hermione. I can't-</p>
<p>"I know," She sighed. "I know they are, but… I wasn't drunk when it happened Harry."</p>
<p>He sighed, groaning a little under his breath, "We've been over this, Hermione."</p>
<p>"Harry," She said, her determination faltering to desperation as she spoke. "I was <em>not</em> drunk. I was <em>confunded</em>."</p>
<p>"Hermione…"</p>
<p>"I want my wand records, Harry."</p>
<p>"Your wand records aren't going to show if you were <em>confunded</em>," He said. "You know that."</p>
<p>"I know," She said. "But I-</p>
<p>"Hermione! It's not going to make a difference! Even if you weren't drunk for <em>you</em>, you had still been drinking! Muggles still got caught in the crossfire and you then took it upon <em>yourself</em> to <em>obliviate</em> them instead of calling it in!" He slammed his hand down on the table in frustration, causing her to jolt forward in her seat. "I know you thought they were the Death Eaters that killed your parents but-</p>
<p>"Harry, do you think I would have thought that <em>muggles</em> were Death Eaters if I hadn't been <em>confunded</em>? Do you? Because I know what those men looked like. I have thought about them every day of my life since my parents were killed! Do you <em>honestly</em> believe I would have made a mistake like that?"</p>
<p>"I don't know," He said.</p>
<p>"Bullshit!" She cried. "You <em>do</em> know! And according to Malfoy, I was <em>confunded </em>to get me off the field! They thought separating us would make you weaker and they could attack the MLE next!"</p>
<p>"If he's not involved, how would he know that? How would he have the information?" Harry argued, jabbing a finger downward into the table.</p>
<p>She became quiet, trying to figure out how to get around the information Malfoy had given her. She sighed, there wasn't going to be a way around it. At least, not without lying. "Malfoy is the one who <em>confunded </em>me."</p>
<p>Harry was quiet.</p>
<p>Hermione had known Harry long enough to know that when Harry became quiet after receiving news that could be unsettling it meant one of two things. He was unsure how to process it, or he was trying to wrangle in his temper before he exploded and did something he would regret.</p>
<p>She was certain it was the latter.</p>
<p>"Are you <em>fucking </em>kidding me?" Harry shouted.</p>
<p>She wasn't wrong.</p>
<p>"Are you fucking kidding me?!" He yelled again, slamming a fist into the table before standing up so swiftly that his chair toppled backward.</p>
<p>On instinct, Hermione jumped back and covered her face. Her heart began thumping in her chest as her brain supplied her scenes of Ron coming at her with a balled up fist and spitting fire. It had been three years since she lived with him, and she still couldn't get past the terror of a man raising her voice at her.</p>
<p>"Harry," She whined, trying to calm herself down. She reached a shaking hand to her wine glass and took a few sips. "Harry, please."</p>
<p>He jammed his fingers through his hair and yanked the chair up from the ground, roughly shoving it into the spot against the table. He began pacing, blowing out deep, angry breaths through his nose.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," He said. "I didn't mean to-</p>
<p>"I know," She said.</p>
<p>"I'll arrest him," Harry said, a finality to his voice. "I'm going to get my robes and I'll arrest him. Give me a few weeks to get him processed and figure out what I can do to get you back on the field and-</p>
<p>"No," Hermione said.</p>
<p>Harry stopped mid-sentence. He planted his feet shoulder width apart and tilted his head to the side, his face scrunched up in confusion. "No? What do you mean no?"</p>
<p>"Don't arrest him," She said. "I don't want to be back in the field right now-</p>
<p>"Hermione!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "You have done nothing but moan about the department you're in and now… Now you want to stay there?"</p>
<p>"This is bigger than me losing my job, Harry." She said, lacing her fingers together and looking up at him. "I was <em>confunded</em> to make you weaker, but the overturn of the department was purposeful. Bringham was getting rid of any person who was making a difference in registration laws and appealing his decisions. Malfoy knew I wouldn't get fired, not with you as head of the Department and Kingsley as Minister. If I lost my job as a field Auror, I would be demoted."</p>
<p>"How could he know that?"</p>
<p>"Because he knows you," She said. "He knows <em>me</em>. He's kept tabs on us for years! He was threatened by Greyback's cronies to start complying, so he went big and got me demoted. But by you placing me in the Magical Creatures Department, I would have reason to begin talking to him and he could do exactly what he did today."</p>
<p>"Bite you and try to cover it up?" He spat, his teeth clenched.</p>
<p>"No," She said, giving him a pointed look. "Give me information."</p>
<p>"But why wait to register?! What was the point of that?" Harry asked, staring at her with his mouth hanging open. His nostrils were flared as he took angry breaths.</p>
<p>She sighed, "Harry, I need you to sit down."</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"Please," Hermione said, begged, really.</p>
<p>He clicked his jaw and nodded, yanking the chair out from the table and flopping back into it, shoving his hair out of his face. "Fine, I'm sitting. What else could there possibly be to tell me?"</p>
<p>"A wand oath," she said. "I need you-</p>
<p>"Hermione! No, if you can't tell me without-</p>
<p>"Harry, I promised him I wouldn't inform the Ministry. I need your word."</p>
<p>She could see his mind working to decide whether or not accept what she was offering. To decide if his curiosity was enough to overcome the anger he was feeling. Harry wanted information, he was driven to understand things in a practical manner. It was one thing that had always held their relationship together. One thing that made their research and field practice so effective. An undying <em>need</em> to know, to use, to explore, to understand. A deadly type of curiosity.</p>
<p>"If you swear me into something mental, Hermione, I <em>will</em> go to the Manor and arrest Malfoy."</p>
<p>"There will be no need for arrests," She promised.</p>
<p>Harry shifted, pulling his wand from the holster on his hip and holding it out to her. She picked her wand up from the table and touched the wands together, performing the oath spell to ensure Harry can not disclose the information to anyone.</p>
<p>When the spell was finished, Harry arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. Hermione took a breath and began to explain that Malfoy was on the path to create a cure for Lycanthropy. She told him about the hidden potions room in the library of the Manor and all of the cauldrons he had set up for testing.</p>
<p>"So he's registering now so that he can present it to the Wizengamot," she concluded. "If he can present an affordable cure, it'll change the course of history."</p>
<p>"But if Greyback still has control in the Ministry…"</p>
<p>"That's why I need the clearance to see him in Azkaban. I want to question him. It's been two years. That should be plenty of time to weaken him. He may be willing to talk now."</p>
<hr/>
<p>It wasn't often that Hermione was so glaringly <em>wrong</em>. But when she stepped into the cell that she would be meeting with Fenrir Greyback in, she realized she had been wrong about this.</p>
<p>Two years in Azkaban would be enough to weaken anyone. Would be enough to tear anyone's mental state to shreds, to rip their sanity from their mind and slam it back into place. Haphazardly and twisted. But Greyback seemed to be <em>thriving</em>.</p>
<p>She noticed first, the size of him. So much larger than she could remember him being the day they arrested him. His shoulders were nearly tearing through his prison issued robes, tight against his chest and biceps. His shaggy auburn hair was flecked with grey and hung loose around his unshaved face. Hermione had expected to see an emptiness in his eyes, some semblance of remorse or even defeat.</p>
<p>When Greyback looked up, there was no defeat in his eyes. There was victory. Feral, ecstatic, deranged <em>victory</em>.</p>
<p>"I wondered when you would be here, mudblood." Greyback said, his voice rasping from lack of use and his top lip curling up over his teeth in a strange combination of a snarl and a smile. "Kept me waiting far too long, shame on you."</p>
<p>Hermione raised her chin a fraction of an inch, trying to steel her nerves and will the trembling, <em>always trembling</em>, of her fingers away. She grasped the cold metal of the back of the chair that sat opposite the table from him and pulled it out. The screeching across the stone floor was deafening. "Yes well, it took your fan club a bit longer than you probably expected to get me off the field."</p>
<p>Greyback barked a laugh, loud and cold as he watched her take her seat. His hands clasped together, unmoving under the iron cuffs that chained him to the floor. "Oh, I doubt they would have even needed to intervene had they waited long enough. I can smell the whiskey on you from here," He took in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes rolling into the back of his head momentarily. "Firewhiskey, but cheap. Not Ogden's. Shivham's, perhaps?"</p>
<p>"Merlin's Best," Hermione answered.</p>
<p>"Salazar, witch. Merlin's Best was made for toothless fools who panhandle knuts in Knockturn Alley."</p>
<p>Hermione shrugged, "It does what I need it to do."</p>
<p>"I assume you didn't waste your precious time with a visit here to exchange cheap liquor preferences," He said.</p>
<p>"Why are you collecting Alphas?" Hermione asked, cutting right to the point of her visit.</p>
<p>Greyback's smirk widened as he leaned forward, pressing his weight into his forearms. "It's cute, almost. How you think it's just me doing the collecting."</p>
<p>"What does that mean?"</p>
<p>"Brightest witch of your age, are you? Surely, you've figured it out."</p>
<p>Hermione narrowed her eyes, scanning his scarred face. Searching for something to give him away, something to show his bluff. He was too confident for someone who had been sitting in a cell for two years with no information. With no visits, aside from the monthly Auror who came to force Wolfsbane down his throat.</p>
<p>"You've got Bringham in your pocket, I assume there are other department heads involved. You've been turning children for years, trying to collect Alphas to… What? Raise an army? Finish what Voldemort started because you felt cast aside?" She shook her head, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Poor little werewolf, used a lap dog."</p>
<p>Greyback's smile faltered and Hermione could see the rage that flashed across his face. "If you think this has anything to do with that fucking cunt of a hypocritical wizard, you are just as stupid as you sound."</p>
<p>"Enlighten me, then. Would you?"</p>
<p>Again, he laughed. "Ah, you're a cheeky bitch, aren't you?"</p>
<p>"I've been called worse." She hissed, folding her arms over her chest, "You're creating an army. An army that is being controlled by the Ministry. Why? If <em>you</em> want control why let the Ministry be involved?"</p>
<p>"The Ministry is not in control of <em>anything</em>. The Ministry is only standing because <em>he</em> decided it should, it isn't time yet."</p>
<p>"Time for what?" Hermione asked.</p>
<p>"The takeover."</p>
<p>After an hour of what felt like yanking teeth from his head to get him to give direct answers, Hermione had learned only one thing of use. One thing of use. Alpha wolves could call their spawn telepathically. And Greyback had been calling for Malfoy for months. Bringing his wolf to the forefront of his mind and locking him in place to follow orders. To see how far he could push him.</p>
<p>That was how she got confirmation of Malfoy being an Alpha. She had suspected it, had <em>said</em> it, but Greyback's confirmation meant that Malfoy was physically and emotionally fighting against his nature. Fighting to keep his wolf at bay as he worked to reverse it. Which, if she had to guess, would really piss his wolf off.</p>
<p>When she had enough of Greyback's snide comments and irritating remarks, she stood from the cold metal chair. This had been, essentially, a waste of a trip. Hermione was annoyed and her head was pounding and all she could think about was the bottle of Merlin's Best under the cabinet at the flat she shared with Harry. As she opened the door to exit the cell she paused, turning to look over her shoulder.</p>
<p>"You said 'he' hasn't decided it was time to take over yet. Who is 'he'?" Hermione asked.</p>
<p>Greyback's eyes flashed, going entirely black before fading back into the hazel color of his human form. "Lestrange."</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hermione knocked back her fourth glass of Firewhiskey and sifted through the pages from old Prophet articles again. She had to be missing something. Over the last eight years, there wasn't a single <em>mention</em> of either of the Lestrange brothers. Bellatrix had been killed at the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998, Molly Weasley had seen to it. But her husband and brother-in-law were nowhere.</p>
<p>No arrest records.</p>
<p>No mention of escape.</p>
<p>No trial.</p>
<p><em>Vanished</em>. Like smoke against night air. There for a moment and then, nothing.</p>
<p>She groaned in frustration, standing from the table and pacing the kitchen. Abandoning her crystal tumbler in favor of taking deep swigs straight from the bottle. As far as she was aware, Voldemort's inner circle consisted of Bellatrix Lestrange, the Malfoy's, Snape, Antonin Dolohov, Thorfinn Rowle, Fenrir Greyback and Corban Yaxley.</p>
<p>Yaxley was killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, alongside Snape and Bellatrix. Narcissa died two years ago, cause of death unknown, Lucius was still in public eye here and there, but had remained out of trouble after his brief stay in Azkaban that was followed by parole. Draco Malfoy, obviously, had stayed out of trouble, out of public eye, out of <em>everything</em>, until now.</p>
<p>Rowle and Greyback had both been apprehended years later. Greyback, obviously in Azkaban now. Rowle was captured shortly before Greyback, hiding in a cave and eating rats. He, also, was sentenced to life in Azkaban.</p>
<p>Dolohov had yet to be apprehended. His trail went cold a year after the Battle and no one had seen or heard from him since. Harry marked his file as a training file, and only went back to it while training new Aurors on when to determine a trail had evaporated.</p>
<p>But the Lestrange brothers? Not a word. Not a <em>bloody fucking whisper</em> of them in eight years.</p>
<p>"Hermione, could you grab this bag?"</p>
<p>Hermione looked up from the spot on the floor she had been staring at, her vision blurred. She set the bottle on the table and met Harry in the living room, taking one of the paper bags he shifted into her arms and returning to the kitchen to put the groceries away.</p>
<p>"I'm making lasagna tonight," Harry said, pulling out the ingredients from the bags.</p>
<p>"What happened?" Hermione asked, her brows pulling together.</p>
<p>Lasagna meant Harry was upset. It meant he wanted to eat himself into a meat and cheese and marinara coated coma and drink too much wine and forget about whatever bullshit things were happening around him. Lasagna meant Harry needed to take his mind off of something, to focus on something other than what was happening at the Ministry.</p>
<p>"Isaac Wassman went missing," Harry said, pulling out his favorite cast iron pan and placing it on the cook top. "We haven't heard from him in twelve hours."</p>
<p>"That's the Auror I helped with his-</p>
<p>"I know, Hermione."</p>
<p>"Harry, this doesn't seem like a coincidence," Hermione said.</p>
<p>"I know, Hermione," Harry answered again, his voice short. "I know. Can we just eat some fucking lasagna, please?"</p>
<p>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SEE I TOLD YOU IT WASN'T ABANDONED! :)</p>
<p>I know the chapter is short, but for whatever reason this little bit popped into my head and I figured I should write it and get it to you guys. I know it's been forever, and I love you for hanging in there. I'll be honest here, I have no idea when the next chapter update will happen, but hopefully soon. I hope you liked this chapter, please review!</p>
<p>also, you can join me on FB at Mimifreed Writing</p>
<p>I love you guys. Thanks for reading</p>
<p>xo</p>
<p>Mimi</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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